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ALTAR AND CEILING DECORATIONS, MISSION SANTA INES

INTERIOR OF MISSION SAN MIGUEL, FROM THE CHOIR GALLERY

THE CITY HALL, SANTA MONICA, CALIF

MISSION CHAPEL AT LOS ANGELES, FROM THE PLAZA PARK

ResidenceinlosAngeles, showinginfluenceofmissionstyleofarchitecture

The Old Franciscan Missions of California

CHAPTER I

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION

In the popular mind there is a misapprehension that
is as deep-seated as it is ill-founded. It is
that the California Missions are the only Missions
(except one or two in Arizona and a few in Texas) and
that they are the oldest in the country. This
is entirely an error. A look at a few dates and
historic facts will soon correct this mistake.

Cortes had conquered Mexico; Pizarro was conqueror
in Peru; Balboa had discovered the South Sea (the
Pacific Ocean) and all Spain was aflame with gold-lust.
Narvaez, in great pomp and ceremony, with six hundred
soldiers of fortune, many of them of good families
and high social station, in his five specially built
vessels, sailed to gain fame, fortune and the fountain
of perpetual youth in what we now call Florida.

Disaster, destruction, death—­I had almost
said entire annihilation—­followed him and
scarce allowed his expedition to land, ere it was
swallowed up, so that had it not been for the escape
of Cabeza de Vaca, his treasurer, and a few others,
there would have been nothing left to suggest that
the history of the start of the expedition was any
other than a myth. But De Vaca and his companions
were saved, only to fall, however, into the hands
of the Indians. What an unhappy fate! Was
life to end thus? Were all the hopes, ambitions
and glorious dreams of De Vaca to terminate in a few
years of bondage to degraded savages?

Unthinkable, unbearable, unbelievable. De Vaca
was a man of power, a man of thought. He reasoned
the matter out. Somewhere on the other side of
the great island—­for the world then thought
of the newly-discovered America as a vast island—­his
people were to be found. He would work his way
to them and freedom. He communicated his hope
and his determination to his companions in captivity.
Henceforth, regardless of whether they were held as
slaves by the Indians, or worshiped as demigods,—­makers
of great medicine,—­either keeping them
from their hearts’ desire, they never once ceased

Page 4

in their efforts to cross the country and reach the
Spanish settlements on the other side. For eight
long years the weary march westward continued, until,
at length, the Spanish soldiers of the Viceroy of
New Spain were startled at seeing men who were almost
skeletons, clad in the rudest aboriginal garb, yet
speaking the purest Castilian and demanding in the
tones of those used to obedience that they be taken
to his noble and magnificent Viceroyship. Amazement,
incredulity, surprise, gave way to congratulations
and rejoicings, when it was found that these were
the human drift of the expedition of which not a whisper,
not an echo, had been heard for eight long years.

Then curiosity came rushing in like a flood.
Had they seen anything on the journey? Were there
any cities, any peoples worth conquering; especially
did any of them have wealth in gold, silver and precious
stones like that harvested so easily by Cortes and
Pizarro?

Cabeza didn’t know really, but—­,
and his long pause and brief story of seven cities
that he had heard of, one or two days’ journey
to the north of his track, fired the imagination of
the Viceroy and his soldiers of fortune. To be
sure, though, they sent out a party of reconnaissance,
under the control of a good father of the Church, Fray
Marcos de Nizza, a friar of the Orders Minor, commonly
known as a Franciscan, with Stephen, a negro, one
of the escaped party of Cabeza de Vaca, as a guide,
to spy out the land.

Fray Marcos penetrated as far as Zuni, and found there
the seven cities, wonderful and strange; though he
did not enter them, as the uncurbed amorous demands
of Stephen had led to his death, and Marcos feared
lest a like fate befall himself, but he returned and
gave a fairly accurate account of what he saw.
His story was not untruthful, but there are those
who think it was misleading in its pauses and in what
he did not tell. Those pauses and eloquent silences
were construed by the vivid imaginations of his listeners
to indicate what the Conquistadores desired,
so a grand and glorious expedition was planned, to
go forth with great sound of trumpets, in glad acclaim
and glowing colors, led by his Superior Excellency
and Most Nobly Glorious Potentate, Senyor Don Francisco
Vasquez de Coronado, a native of Salamanca, Spain,
and now governor of the Mexican province of New Galicia.

It was a gay throng that started on that wonderful
expedition from Culiacan early in 1540. Their
hopes were high, their expectations keen. Many
of them little dreamed of what was before them.
Alarcon was sent to sail up the Sea of Cortes (now
the Gulf of California) to keep in touch with the
land expedition, and Melchior Diaz, of that sea party,
forced his way up what is now the Colorado River to
the arid sands of the Colorado Desert in Southern
California, before death and disaster overtook him.

Page 5

Coronado himself crossed Arizona to Zuni—­the
pueblo of the Indians that Fray Marcos had gazed upon
from a hill, but had not dared approach—­and
took it by storm, receiving a wound in the conflict
which laid him up for a while and made it necessary
to send his lieutenant, the Ensign Pedro de Tobar,
to further conquests to the north and west. Hence
it was that Tobar, and not Coronado, discovered the
pueblos of the Hopi Indians. He also sent his
sergeant, Cardenas, to report on the stories told
him of a mighty river also to the north, and this explains
why Cardenas was the first white man to behold that
eloquent abyss since known as the Grand Canyon.
And because Cardenas was Tobar’s subordinate
officer, the high authorities of the Santa Fe Railway—­who
have yielded to a common-sense suggestion in the Mission
architecture of their railway stations, and romantic,
historic naming of their hotels—­have called
their Grand Canyon hotel, El Tovar, their hotel
at Las Vegas, Cardenas, and the one at Williams
(the junction point of the main line with the Grand
Canyon branch), Fray Marcos.

Poor Coronado, disappointed as to the finding and
gaining of great stores of wealth at Zuni, pushed
on even to the eastern boundaries of Kansas, but found
nothing more valuable than great herds of buffalo and
many people, and returned crestfallen, broken-hearted
and almost disgraced by his own sense of failure,
to Mexico. And there he drops out of the story.
But others followed him, and in due time this northern
portion of the country was annexed to Spanish possessions
and became known as New Mexico.

In the meantime the missionaries of the Church were
active beyond the conception of our modern minds in
the newly conquered Mexican countries.

The various orders of the Roman Catholic Church were
indefatigable in their determination to found cathedrals,
churches, missions, convents and schools. Jesuits,
Franciscans and Dominicans vied with each other in
the fervor of their efforts, and Mexico was soon dotted
over with magnificent structures of their erection.
Many of the churches of Mexico are architectural gems
of the first water that compare favorably with the
noted cathedrals of Europe, and he who forgets this
overlooks one of the most important factors in Mexican
history and civilization.

The period of expansion and enlargement of their political
and ecclesiastical borders continued until, in 1697,
Fathers Kino and Salviaterra, of the Jesuits, with
indomitable energy and unquenchable zeal, started
the conversion of the Indians of the peninsula of Lower
California.

In those early days, the name California was not applied,
practically speaking, to the country we know as California.
The explorers of Cortes had discovered what they imagined
was an island, but afterwards learned was a peninsula,
and this was soon known as California. In this
California there were many Indians, and it was to missionize
these that the God-fearing, humanity-loving, self-sacrificing
Jesuits just named—­not Franciscans—­gave
of their life, energy and love. The names of
Padres Kino and Salviaterra will long live in the annals
of Mission history for their devotion to the spiritual
welfare of the Indians of Lower California.

Page 6

The results of their labors were soon seen in that
within a few years fourteen Missions were established,
beginning with San Juan Londa in 1697, and the more
famous Loreto in 1698.

When the Jesuits were expelled, in 1768, the Franciscans
took charge of the Lower California Missions and established
one other, that of San Fernando de Velicata, besides
building a stone chapel in the mining camp of San
Antonio Real, situated near Ventana Bay.

The Dominicans now followed, and the Missions of El
Rosario, Santo Domingo, Descanso, San Vicenti Ferrer,
San Miguel Fronteriza, Santo Tomas de Aquino, San
Pedro Martir de Verona, El Mision Fronteriza de Guadalupe,
and finally, Santa Catarina de los Yumas were founded.
This last Mission was established in 1797, and this
closed the active epoch of Mission building in the
peninsula, showing twenty-three fairly flourishing
establishments in all.

It is not my purpose here to speak of these Missions
of Lower California, except in-so-far as their history
connects them with the founding of the Alta
California Missions. A later chapter will show
the relationship of the two.

The Mission activity that led to the founding of Missions
in Lower California had already long been in exercise
in New Mexico. The reports of Marcos de Nizza
had fired the hearts of the zealous priests as vigorously
as they had excited the cupidity of the Conquistadores.
Four Franciscan priests, Marcos de Nizza, Antonio Victoria,
Juan de Padilla and Juan de la Cruz, together with
a lay brother, Luis de Escalona, accompanied Coronado
on his expedition. On the third day out Fray
Antonio Victoria broke his leg, hence was compelled
to return, and Fray Marcos speedily left the expedition
when Zuni was reached and nothing was found to satisfy
the cupidity of the Spaniards. He was finally
permitted to retire to Mexico, and there died, March
25, 1558.

For a time Mission activity in New Mexico remained
dormant, not only on account of intense preoccupation
in other fields, but because the political leaders
seemed to see no purpose in attempting the further
subjugation of the country to the north (now New Mexico
and Arizona). But about forty years after Coronado,
another explorer was filled with adventurous zeal,
and he applied for a charter or royal permission to
enter the country, conquer and colonize it for the
honor and glory of the king and his own financial
reward and honorable renown. This leader was
Juan de Onate, who, in 1597, set out for New Mexico
accompanied by ten missionary padres, and in September
of that year established the second church in what
is now United States territory. Juan de Onate
was the real colonizer of this new country. It
was in 1595 that he made a contract with the Viceroy
of New Spain to colonize it at his own expense.
He was delayed, however, and could not set out until
early in 1597, when he started with four hundred colonists,
including two hundred soldiers, women and children,
and great herds of cattle and flocks of sheep.
In due time he reached what is now the village of Chamita,
calling it San Gabriel de los Espanoles, a few miles
north of Santa Fe, and there established, in September,
1598, the first town of New Mexico, and the second
of the United States (St. Augustine, in Florida, having
been the first, established in 1560 by Aviles de Menendez).

Page 7

The work of Onate and the epoch it represents is graphically,
sympathetically and understandingly treated, from
the Indian’s standpoint, by Marah Ellis
Ryan, in her fascinating and illuminating novel, The
Flute of the Gods, which every student of the Missions
of New Mexico and Arizona (as also of California)
will do well to read.

New Mexico has seen some of the most devoted missionaries
of the world, one of these, Fray Geronimo de Zarate
Salmeron, having left a most interesting, instructive
account of “the things that have been seen and
known in New Mexico, as well by sea as by land, from
the year 1538 till that of 1626.”

This account was written in 1626 to induce other missionaries
to enter the field in which he was so earnest a laborer.
For eight years he worked in New Mexico, more than
280 years ago. In 1618 he was parish priest at
Jemez, mastered the Indian language and baptized 6566
Indians, not counting those of Cia and Santa Ana.
“He also, single-handed and alone, pacified
and converted the lofty pueblo of Acoma, then hostile
to the Spanish. He built churches and monasteries,
bore the fearful hardships and dangers of a missionary’s
life then in that wilderness, and has left us a most
valuable chronicle.” This was translated
by Mr. Lummis and appeared in The Land of Sunshine.

The missionaries who accompanied Juan de Onate in
1597 built a chapel at San Gabriel, but no fragment
of it remains, though in 1680 its ruins were referred
to. The second church in New Mexico was built
about 1606 in Santa Fe, the new city founded the year
before by Onate. This church, however, did not
last long, for it was soon outgrown, and in 1622, Fray
Alonzo de Benavides, the Franciscan historian of New
Mexico, laid the foundation of the parish church,
which was completed in 1627. When, in 1870, it
was decided to build the stone cathedral in Santa Fe,
this old church was demolished, except two large chapels
and the old sanctuary. It had been described
in the official records shortly prior to its demolition
as follows: “An adobe building 54 yards
long by 9-1/2 in width, with two small towers not
provided with crosses, one containing two bells and
the other empty; the church being covered with the
Crucero (the place where a church takes the
form of a cross by the side chapels), there are two
large separate chapels, the one on the north side
dedicated to Our Lady of the Rosary, called also ’La
Conquistadorea;’ and on the south side the other
dedicated to St. Joseph.”

Sometime shortly after 1636 the old church of San
Miguel was built in Santa Fe, and its original walls
still form a part of the church that stands to-day.
It was partially demolished in the rebellion of 1680,
but was restored in 1710.

In 1617, nearly three hundred years ago, there were
eleven churches in New Mexico, the ruins of one of
which, that of Pecos, can still be seen a few miles
above Glorieta on the Santa Fe main line. This
pueblo was once the largest in New Mexico, but it
was deserted in 1840, and now its great house, supposed
to have been much larger than the many-storied house
of Zuni, is entirely in ruins.

Page 8

It would form a fascinating chapter could I here tell
of the stirring history of some of the Missions established
in New Mexico. There were martyrs by the score,
escapes miraculous and wonderful. Among the Hopis
one whole village was completely destroyed and in the
neighborhood of seven hundred of its men—­all
of them—­slain by their fellow-Hopis of
other towns, simply because of their complaisance towards
the hated, foreign long-gowns (as the Franciscan priests
were called). Suffice it to say that Missions
were established and churches built at practically
all of the Indian pueblos, and also at the Spanish
settlements of San Gabriel and Santa Cruz de la Canyada,
many of which exist to this day. In Texas, also,
Missions had been established, the ruins of the chief
of which may be visited in one day from the city of
San Antonio.

CHAPTER II

THE RELATIONSHIP OF THE MISSIONS OF LOWER CALIFORNIA
(MEXICO) AND ALTA CALIFORNIA (UNITED STATES)

Rightly to understand the history of the Missions
of the California of the United States, it is imperative
that the connection or relationship that exists between
their history and that of the Missions of Lower California
(Mexico) be clearly understood.

As I have already shown, the Jesuit padres founded
fourteen Missions in Lower California, which they
conducted with greater or less success until 1767,
when the infamous Order of Expulsion of Carlos III
of Spain drove them into exile.

It had always been the intention of Spain to colonize
and missionize Alta California, even as far back as
the days of Cabrillo in 1542, and when Vizcaino, sixty
years later, went over the same region, the original
intention was renewed. But intentions do not always
fructify and bring forth, so it was not until a hundred
and sixty years after Vizcaino that the work was actually
begun. The reasons were diverse and equally urgent.
The King of Spain and his advisers were growing more
and more uneasy about the aggressions of the Russians
and the English on the California or rather the Pacific
Coast. Russia was pushing down from the north;
England also had her establishments there, and with
her insular arrogance England boldly stated that she
had the right to California, or New Albion, as she
called it, because of Sir Francis Drake’s landing
and taking possession in the name of “Good Queen
Bess.” Spain not only resented this, but
began to realize another need. Her galleons from
the Philippines found it a long, weary, tedious and
disease-provoking voyage around the coast of South
America to Spain, and besides, too many hostile and
piratical vessels roamed over the Pacific Sea to allow
Spanish captains to sleep easy o’ nights.
Hence it was decided that if ports of call were established
on the California coast, fresh meats and vegetables
and pure water could be supplied to the galleons,
and in addition, with presidios to defend them,

Page 9

they might escape the plundering pirates by whom they
were beset. Accordingly plans were being formulated
for the colonization and missionization of California
when, by authority of his own sweet will, ruling a
people who fully believed in the divine right of kings
to do as they pleased, King Carlos the Third issued
the proclamation already referred to, totally and
completely banishing the Jesuits from all parts of
his dominions, under penalty of imprisonment and death.

I doubt whether many people of to-day, even though
they be of the Catholic Church, can realize what obedience
to that order meant to these devoted priests.
Naturally they must obey it—­monstrous though
it was—­but the one thought that tore their
hearts with anguish was: Who would care for their
Indian charges?

For these ignorant and benighted savages they had
left their homes and given up all that life ordinarily
means and offers. Were they to be allowed to
drift back into their dark heathendom?

No! In spite of his cruelty to the Jesuits, the
king had provided that the Indians should not be neglected.
He had appointed one in whom he had especial confidence,
Don Jose Galvez, as his Visitador General, and
had conferred upon him almost plenary authority.
To his hands was committed the carrying out of the
order of banishment, the providing of members of some
other Catholic Order to care for the Indians of the
Missions, and later, to undertake the work of extending
the chain of Missions northward into Alta California,
as far north as the Bay of Monterey, and even beyond.

To aid him in his work Galvez appealed to the Superior
of the Franciscan Convent in the City of Mexico, and
Padre Junipero Serra, by common consent of the officers
and his fellows, was denominated as the man of all
men for the important office of Padre Presidente of
the Jesuit Missions that were to be placed henceforth
under the care of the Franciscans.

This plan, however, was changed within a few months.
It was decided to call upon the priests of the Dominican
Order to take charge of the Jesuit Missions, while
the Franciscans put all their strength and energy
into the founding of the new Missions in Alta California.

Thus it came to pass that the Franciscans took charge
of the founding of the California Missions, and that
Junipero Serra became the first real pioneer of what
is now so proudly denominated “The Golden State.”

The orders that Galvez had received were clear and
positive:

“Occupy and fortify San Diego and Monterey for
God and the King of Spain.” He was a devout
son of the Church, full of enthusiasm, having good
sense, great executive ability, considerable foresight,
untiring energy, and decided contempt for all routine
formalities. He began his work with a truly Western
vigor. Being invested with almost absolute power,
there were none above him to interpose vexatious formalities
to hinder the immediate execution of his plans.

Page 10

[Illustration: JUNIPERO SERRA Founder and First
Padre Presidente of the Franciscan Missions of California
From the Schumacker crayon]

[Illustration: MAP OF THE COAST OF CALIFORNIA,
SHOWING THE FRANCISCAN MISSION ESTABLISHMENTS.
Map originally made for Palou’s Life of Padre
Junipero Serra, published in Mexico in 1787.]

In order that the spiritual part of the work might
be as carefully planned as the political, Galvez summoned
Serra. What a fine combination! Desire and
power hand in hand! What nights were spent by
the two in planning! What arguments, what discussions,
what final agreements the old adobe rooms occupied
by them must have heard! But it is by just such
men that great enterprises are successfully begun and
executed. For fervor and enthusiasm, power and
sense, when combined, produce results. Plans
were formulated with a completeness and rapidity that
equalled the best days of the Conquistadores.
Four expeditions were to go: two by land and
two by sea. So would the risk of failure be lessened,
and practical knowledge of both routes be gained.
Galvez had two available vessels: the “San
Carlos” and the “San Antonio.”

For money the visitor-general called upon the Pious
Fund, which, on the expulsion of the Jesuits, he had
placed in the hands of a governmental administrator.
He had also determined that the Missions of the peninsula
should do their share to help in the founding of the
new Missions, and Serra approved and helped in the
work.

When Galvez arrived, he found Gaspar de Portola acting
as civil and military governor, and Fernando Javier
Rivera y Moncada, the former governor, commanding
the garrison at Loreto. Both were captains, Rivera
having been long in the country. He determined
to avail himself of the services of these two men,
each of them to command one of the land expeditions.
Consequently with great rapidity, for those days,
operations were set in motion. Rivera in August
or September, 1768, was sent on a commission to visit
in succession all the Missions, and gather from each
one all the provisions, live-stock, and implements
that could be spared. He was also to prevail
upon all the available families he could find to go
along as colonists. In the meantime, others sent
out by Galvez gathered in church furniture, ornaments,
and vestments for the Missions, and later Serra made
a tour for the same purpose. San Jose was named
the patron saint of the expedition, and in December
the “San Carlos” arrived at La Paz partially
laden with supplies.

The vessel was in bad condition, so it had to be unloaded,
careened, cleaned, and repaired, and then reloaded,
and in this latter work both Galvez and Serra helped,
the former packing the supplies for the Mission of
San Buenaventura, in which he was particularly interested,
and Serra attending to those for San Carlos.
They joked each other as they worked, and when Galvez
completed his task ahead of Serra he had considerable

Page 11

fun at the Padre Presidente’s expense. In
addition to the two Missions named, one other, dedicated
to San Diego, was first to be established. By
the ninth of January, 1769, the “San Carlos”
was ready. Confessions were heard, masses said,
the communion administered, and Galvez made a rousing
speech. Then Serra formally blessed the undertaking,
cordially embraced Fray Parron, to whom the spiritual
care of the vessel was intrusted, the sails were lowered,
and off started the first division of the party that
meant so much to the future California. In another
vessel Galvez went along until the “San Carlos”
doubled the point and started northward, when, with
gladness in his heart and songs on his lips, he returned
to still further prosecute his work.

The fifteenth of February the “San Antonio,”
under the command of Perez, was ready and started.
Now the land expeditions must be moved. Rivera
had gathered his stock, etc., at Santa Maria,
the most northern of the Missions, but finding scant
pasturage there, he had moved eight or ten leagues
farther north to a place called by the Indians Velicata.
Fray Juan Crespi was sent to join Rivera, and Fray
Lasuen met him at Santa Maria in order to bestow the
apostolic blessing ere the journey began, and on March
24 Lasuen stood at Velicata and saw the little band
of pilgrims start northward for the land of the gentiles,
driving their herds before them. What a procession
it must have been! The animals, driven by Indians
under the direction of soldiers and priests, straggling
along or dashing wildly forward as such creatures are
wont to do! Here, as well as in the starting
of the “San Carlos” and “San Antonio,”
is a great scene for an artist, and some day canvases
worthy the subjects should be placed in the California
State Capitol at Sacramento.

Governor Portola was already on his way north, but
Serra was delayed by an ulcerated foot and leg, and,
besides, he had not yet gathered together all the
Mission supplies he needed, so it was May 15 before
this division finally left Velicata. The day before
leaving, Serra established the Mission of San Fernando
at the place of their departure, and left Padre Campa
in charge.

Padre Serra’s diary, kept in his own handwriting
during this trip from Loreto to San Diego, is now
in the Edward E. Ayer Library in Chicago. Some
of his expressions are most striking. In one place,
speaking of Captain Rivera’s going from Mission
to Mission to take from them “whatever he might
choose of what was in them for the founding of the
new Missions,” he says: “Thus he did;
and altho it was with a somewhat heavy hand, it was
undergone for God and the king.”

Page 12

The work of Galvez for Alta California was by no means
yet accomplished. Another vessel, the “San
Jose,” built at his new shipyard, appeared two
days before the “San Antonio” set sail,
and soon afterwards Galvez went across the gulf in
it to secure a load of fresh supplies. The sixteenth
of June the “San Jose” sailed for San Diego
as a relief boat to the “San Carlos” and
“San Antonio,” but evidently met with misfortune,
for three months later it returned to the Loreto harbor
with a broken mast and in general bad condition.
It was unloaded and repaired at San Blas, and in the
following June again started out, laden with supplies,
but never reached its destination, disappearing forever
without leaving a trace behind.

[Illustration: SERRA MEMORIAL CROSS, MONTEREY,
CALIF]

[Illustration: SERRA CROSS ON MT. RUBIDOUX,
RIVERSIDE, CALIF. Under which sunrise services
are held at Easter and Christmastide.]

[Illustration: STATUE TO JUNIPERO SERRA.
The gift of James D. Phelan, in Golden Gate Park San
Francisco.]

The “San Antonio” first arrived at San
Diego. About April 11, 1769, it anchored in the
bay, and awakened in the minds of the natives strange
feelings of astonishment and awe. Its presence
recalled to them the “stories of the old,”
when a similar apparition startled their ancestors.
That other white-winged creature had come long generations
ago, and had gone away, never to be seen again.
Was this not to do likewise? Ah, no! in this
vessel was contained the beginning of the end of the
primitive man. The solitude of the centuries was
now to be disturbed and its peace invaded; aboriginal
life destroyed forever. The advent of this vessel
was the death knell of the Indian tribes.

Little, however, did either the company on board the
“San Antonio” or the Indians themselves
conceive such thoughts as these on that memorable
April day.

But where was the “San Carlos,” which
sailed almost a month earlier than the “San
Antonio”? She was struggling with difficulties,—­leaking
water-casks, bad water, scurvy, cold weather.
Therefore it was not until April 29 that she appeared.
In vain the captain of the “San Antonio”
waited for the “San Carlos” to launch a
boat and to send him word as to the cause of the late
arrival of the flagship; so he visited her to discover
for himself the cause. He found a sorry state
of affairs. All on board were ill from scurvy.
Hastily erecting canvas houses on the beach, the men
of his own crew went to the relief of their suffering
comrades of the other vessel. Then the crew of
the relieving ship took the sickness, and soon there
were so few well men left that they could scarcely
attend the sick and bury the dead. Those first
two weeks in the new land, in the month of May, 1769,
were never to be forgotten. Of about ninety sailors,
soldiers, and mechanics, less than thirty survived;
over sixty were buried by the wash of the waves of
the Bay of Saint James.

Page 13

Then came Rivera and Crespi, with Lieutenant Fages
and twenty-five soldiers.

Immediately a permanent camp was sought and found
at what is now known as Old San Diego, where the two
old palms still remain, with the ruins of the presidio
on the hill behind. Six weeks were busily occupied
in caring for the sick and in unloading the “San
Antonio.” Then the fourth and last party
of the explorers arrived,—­Governor Portola
on June 29, and Serra on July 1. What a journey
that had been for Serra! He had walked all the
way, and, after two days out, a badly ulcerated leg
began to trouble him. Portola wished to send
him back, but Serra would not consent. He called
to one of the muleteers and asked him to make just
such a salve for his wound as he would put upon the
saddle galls of one of his animals. It was done,
and in a single night the ointment and the Father’s
prayers worked the miracle of healing.

After a general thanksgiving, in which exploding gunpowder
was used to give effect, a consultation was held,
at which it was decided to send back the “San
Antonio” to San Blas for supplies, and for new
crews for herself and the “San Carlos.”
A land expedition under Portola was to go to Monterey,
while Serra and others remained at San Diego to found
the Mission. The vessel sailed, Portola and his
band started north, and on July 16, 1769, Serra raised
the cross, blessed it, said mass, preached, and formally
established the Mission of San Diego de Alcala.

It mattered not that the Indians held aloof; that
only the people who came on the expedition were present
to hear. From the hills beyond, doubtless, peered
and peeped the curious natives. All was mysterious
to them. Later, however, they became troublesome,
stealing from the sick and pillaging from the “San
Carlos.” At last, they made a determined
raid for plunder, which the Spanish soldiers resisted.
A flight of arrows was the result. A boy was
killed and three of the new-comers wounded. A
volley of musket-balls killed three Indians, wounded
several more, and cleared the settlement. After
such an introduction, there is no wonder that conversions
were slow. Not a neophyte gladdened the Father’s
heart for more than a year.

CHAPTER III

THE MISSIONS FOUNDED BY PADRE JUNIPERO SERRA

San Diego Mission founded, Serra was impatient to
have work begun elsewhere. Urging the governor
to go north immediately, he rejoiced when Portola,
Crespi, Rivera, and Pages started, with a band of soldiers
and natives. They set out gaily, gladly.
They were sure of a speedy journey to the Bay of Monterey,
discovered by Cabrillo, and seen again and charted
by Vizcaino, where they were to establish the second
Mission.

Page 14

Strange to say, however, when they reached Monterey,
in the words of Scripture, “their eyes were
holden,” and they did not recognize it.
They found a bay which they fully described, and while
we to-day clearly see that it was the bay they were
looking for, they themselves thought it was another
one. Believing that Vizcaino had made an error
in his chart, they pushed on further north. The
result of this disappointment was of vast consequence
to the later development of California, for, following
the coast line inland, they were bound to strike the
peninsula and ultimately reach the shores of what
is now San Francisco Bay. This was exactly what
was done, and on November 2, 1769, one of Portola’s
men, ascending ahead of the others to the crest of
a hill, caught sight of this hitherto unknown and
hidden body of water. How he would have shouted
had he understood! How thankful and joyous it
would have made Portola and Crespi and the others.
For now was the discovery of that very harbor that
Padre Serra had so fervently hoped and prayed for,
the harbor that was to secure for California a Mission
“for our father Saint Francis.” Yet
not one of them either knew or seemed to comprehend
the importance of that which their eyes had seen.
Instead, they were disheartened and disappointed by
a new and unforeseen obstacle to their further progress.
The narrow channel (later called the Golden Gate by
Fremont), barred their way, and as their provisions
were getting low, and they certainly were much further
north than they ought to have been to find the Bay
of Monterey, Portola gave the order for the return,
and sadly, despondently, they went back to San Diego.

On the march south, Portola’s mind was made
up. This whole enterprise was foolish and chimerical.
He had had enough of it. He was going back home,
and as the “San Antonio” with its promised
supplies had not yet arrived, and the camp was almost
entirely out of food, he announced the abandonment
of the expedition and an immediate return to Lower
California.

Now came Serra’s faith to the fore, and that
resolute determination and courage that so marked
his life. The decision of Portola had gone to
his heart like an arrow. What! Abandon the
Missions before they were fairly begun? Where
was their trust in God? It was one hundred and
sixty-six years since Vizcaino had been in this port,
and if they left it now, when would another expedition
be sent? In those years that had elapsed since
Vizcaino, how many precious Indian souls had been lost
because they had not received the message of salvation?
He pleaded and begged Portola to reconsider.
For awhile the governor stood firm. Serra also
had a strong will. From a letter written to Padre
Palou, who was left behind in charge of the Lower
California Missions, we see his intention: “If
we see that along with the provisions hope vanishes,
I shall remain alone with Father Juan Crespi and
hold out to the last breath.”

Page 15

With such a resolution as this, Portola could not
cope. Yielding to Serra’s persuasion, he
consented to wait while a novena (a nine days’
devotional exercise) was made to St. Joseph, the holy
patron of the expedition. Fervently day by day
Serra prayed. On the day of San Jose (St. Joseph)
a high mass was celebrated, and Serra preached.
On the fourth day the eager watchers saw the vessel
approach. Then, strange to say, it disappeared,
and as the sixth, seventh and eighth days passed and
it did not reappear again, hope seemed to sink lower
in the hearts of all but Serra and his devoted brother
Crespi. On the ninth and last day—­would
it be seen? Bowing himself in eager and earnest
prayer Serra pleaded that his faith be not shamed,
and, to his intense delight, doubtless while he prayed,
the vessel sailed into the bay.

Joy unspeakable was felt by every one. The provisions
were here, the expedition need not be abandoned; the
Indians would yet be converted to Holy Church and
all was well. A service of thanksgiving was held,
and happiness smiled on every face.

With new energy, vigor, and hope, Portola set out
again for the search of Monterey, accompanied by Serra
as well as Crespi. This time the attempt was
successful. They recognized the bay, and on June
3, 1770, a shelter of branches was erected on the
beach, a cross made ready near an old oak, the bells
were hung and blessed, and the services of founding
began. Padre Serra preached with his usual fervor;
he exhorted the natives to come and be saved, and
put to rout all infernal foes by an abundant sprinkling
of holy water. The Mission was dedicated to San
Carlos Borromeo.

Thus two of the long desired Missions were established,
and the passion of Serra’s longings, instead
of being assuaged, raged now all the fiercer.
It was not long, however, before he found it to be
bad policy to have the Missions for the Indian neophytes
too near the presidio, or barracks for the
soldiers. These latter could not always be controlled,
and they early began a course which was utterly demoralizing
to both sexes, for the women of a people cannot be
debauched without exciting the men to fierce anger,
or making them as bad as their women. Hence Serra
removed the Missions: that of San Diego six miles
up the valley to a point where the ruins now stand,
while that of San Carlos he re-established in the
Carmelo Valley.

The Mission next to be established should have been
San Buenaventura, but events stood in the way; so,
on July 14, 1771, Serra (who had been zealously laboring
with the heathen near Monterey), with eight soldiers,
three sailors, and a few Indians, passed down the Salinas
River and established the Mission of San Antonio de
Padua. The site was a beautiful one, in an oak-studded
glen, near a fair-sized stream. The passionate
enthusiasm of Serra can be understood from the fact
that after the bells were hung from a tree, he loudly
tolled them, crying the while like one possessed:

Page 16

“Come, gentiles, come to the Holy Church, come
and receive the faith of Jesus Christ!” Padre
Pieras could not help reminding his superior that
not an Indian was within sight or hearing, and that
it would be more practical to proceed with the ritual.
One native, however, did witness the ceremony, and
he soon brought a large number of his companions,
who became tractable enough to help in erecting the
rude church, barracks and houses with which the priests
and soldiers were compelled to be content in those
early days.

[Illustration: MISSION SAN CARLOS AND BAY OF
MONTEREY.]

[Illustration: JUNIPERO OAK, SAN CARLOS PRESIDIO
MISSION, MONTEREY]

[Illustration: STATUE OF SAN LUIS REY, AT PALA
MISSION CHAPEL See page 246.]

On September 8, Padres Somera and Cambon founded the
Mission of San Gabriel Arcangel, originally about
six miles from the present site. Here, at first,
the natives were inclined to be hostile, a large force
under two chieftains appearing, in order to prevent
the priests from holding their service. But at
the elevation of a painting of the Virgin, the opposition
ceased, and the two chieftains threw their necklaces
at the feet of the Beautiful Queen. Still, a
few wicked men can undo in a short time the work of
many good ones. Padre Palou says that outrages
by soldiers upon the Indian women precipitated an
attack upon the Spaniards, especially upon two, at
one of whom the chieftain (whose wife had been outraged
by the man) fired an arrow. Stopping it with his
shield, the soldier levelled his musket and shot the
injured husband dead. Ah! sadness of it!
The unbridled passions of men of the new race already
foreshadowed the death of the old race, even while
the good priests were seeking to elevate and to Christianize
them. This attack and consequent disturbance
delayed still longer the founding of San Buenaventura.

On his way south (for he had now decided to go to
Mexico), Serra founded, on September 1, 1772, the
Mission of San Luis Obispo de Tolosa. The natives
called the location Tixlini, and half a league away
was a famous canyada in which Fages, some time previously,
had killed a number of bears to provide meat for the
starving people at Monterey. This act made the
natives well disposed towards the priests in charge
of the new Mission, and they helped to erect buildings,
offered their children for baptism, and brought of
their supply of food to the priests, whose stores
were by no means abundant.

While these events were transpiring, Governor Portola
had returned to Lower California, and Lieutenant Fages
was appointed commandant in his stead. This,
it soon turned out, was a great mistake. Fages
and Serra did not work well together, and, at the
time of the founding of San Luis Obispo, relations
between them were strained almost to breaking.
Serra undoubtedly had just cause for complaint.
The enthusiastic, impulsive missionary, desirous of
furthering his important religious work, believed

Page 17

himself to be restrained by a cold-blooded, official-minded
soldier, to whom routine was more important than the
salvation of the Indians. Serra complained that
Fages opened his letters and those of his fellow missionaries;
that he supported his soldiers when their evil conduct
rendered the work of the missionaries unavailing; that
he interfered with the management of the stations
and the punishment of neophytes, and devoted to his
own uses the property and facilities of the Missions.

In the main, this complaint received attention from
the Junta in Mexico. Fages was ultimately removed,
and Rivera appointed governor in his place. More
missionaries, money, and supplies were placed at Serra’s
disposal, and he was authorized to proceed to the establishment
of the additional Missions which he had planned.
He also obtained authority from the highest powers
of the Church to administer the important sacrament
of confirmation. This is a right generally conferred
only upon a bishop and his superiors, but as California
was so remote and the visits of the bishop so rare,
it was deemed appropriate to grant this privilege
to Serra.

Rejoicing and grateful, the earnest president sent
Padres Fermin Francisco de Lasuen and Gregorio Amurrio,
with six soldiers, to begin work at San Juan Capistrano.
This occurred in August, 1775. On the thirtieth
of the following October, work was begun, and everything
seemed auspicious, when suddenly, as if God had ceased
to smile upon them, terrible news came from San Diego.
There, apparently, things had been going well.
Sixty converts were baptized on October 3, and the
priests rejoiced at the success of their efforts.
But the Indians back in the mountains were alarmed
and hostile. Who were these white-faced strangers
causing their brother aborigines to kneel before a
strange God? What was the meaning of that mystic
ceremony of sprinkling with water? The demon
of priestly jealousy was awakened in the breasts of
the tingaivashes—­the medicine-men—­of
the tribes about San Diego, who arranged a fierce
midnight attack which should rid them forever of these
foreign conjurers, the men of the “bad medicine.”

Exactly a month and a day after the baptism of the
sixty converts, at the dead of night, the Mission
buildings were fired and the eleven persons of Spanish
blood were awakened by flames and the yells of a horde
of excited savages. A fierce conflict ensued.
Arrows were fired on the one side, gun-shots on the
other, while the flames roared in accompaniment and
lighted the scene. Both Indians and Spaniards
fell. The following morning, when hostilities
had ceased and the enemy had withdrawn, the body of
Padre Jayme was discovered in the dry bed of a neighboring
creek, bruised from head to foot with blows from stones
and clubs, naked, and bearing eighteen arrow-wounds.

The sad news was sent to Serra, and his words, at
hearing it, show the invincible missionary spirit
of the man: “God be thanked! Now the
soil is watered; now will the reduction of the Dieguinos
be complete!”

Page 18

At San Juan Capistrano, however, the news caused serious
alarm. Work ceased, the bells were buried, and
the priests returned.

In the meantime events were shaping elsewhere for
the founding of the Mission of San Francisco.
Away yonder, in what is now Arizona, but was then
a part of New Mexico, were several Missions, some forty
miles south of the city of Tucson, and it was decided
to connect these, by means of a good road, with the
Missions of California. Captain Juan Bautista
de Anza was sent to find this road. He did so,
and made the trip successfully, going with Padre Serra
from San Gabriel as far north as Monterey.

On his return, the Viceroy, Bucareli, gave orders
that he should recruit soldiers and settlers for the
establishment and protection of the new Mission on
San Francisco Bay. We have a full roster, in the
handwriting of Padre Font, the Franciscan who accompanied
the expedition, of those who composed it. Successfully
they crossed the sandy wastes of Arizona and the barren
desolation of the Colorado Desert (in Southern California).

On their arrival at San Gabriel, January 4, 1776 (memorable
year on the other side of the continent), they found
that Rivera, who had been appointed governor in Portola’s
stead, had arrived the day before, on his way south
to quell the Indian disturbances at San Diego, and
Anza, on hearing the news, deemed the matter of sufficient
importance to justify his turning aside from his direct
purpose and going south with Rivera. Taking seventeen
of his soldiers along, he left the others to recruit
their energies at San Gabriel, but the inactivity of
Rivera did not please him, and, as things were not
going well at San Gabriel, he soon returned and started
northward. It was a weary journey, the rains
having made some parts of the road well-nigh impassable,
and even the women had to walk. Yet on the tenth
of March they all arrived safely and happily at Monterey,
where Serra himself came to congratulate them.

After an illness which confined him to his bed, Anza,
against the advice of his physician, started to investigate
the San Francisco region, as upon his decision rested
the selection of the site. The bay was pretty
well explored, and the site chosen, near a spring and
creek, which was named from the day,—­the
last Friday in Lent,—­Arroyo de los Dolores.
Hence the name so often applied to the Mission itself:
it being commonly known even to-day as “Mission
Dolores.”

His duty performed, Anza returned south, and Rivera
appointed Lieutenant Moraga to take charge of the
San Francisco colonists, and on July 26, 1776, a camp
was pitched on the allotted site. The next day
a building of tules was begun and on the twenty-eighth
of the same month mass was said by Padre Palou.
In the meantime, the vessel “San Carlos”
was expected from Monterey with all needful supplies
for both the presidio and the new Mission,
but, buffeted by adverse winds, it was forced down
the coast as far as San Diego, and did not arrive outside
of what is now the bay of San Francisco until August
17.

Page 19

The two carpenters from the “San Carlos,”
with a squad of sailors, were set to work on the new
buildings, and on September 17 the foundation ceremonies
of the presidio took place. On that same
day, Lord Howe, of the British army, with his Hessian
mercenaries, was rejoicing in the city of New York
in anticipation of an easy conquest of the army of
the revolutionists.

It was the establishment of that presidio,
followed by that of the Mission on October 9, which
predestined the name of the future great American
city, born of adventure and romance.

Padres Palou and Cambon had been hard at work since
the end of July. Aided by Lieutenant Moraga,
they built a church fifty-four feet long, and a house
thirty by fifteen feet, both structures being of wood,
plastered with clay, and roofed with tules. On
October 3, the day preceding the festival of St. Francis,
bunting and flags from the ships were brought to decorate
the new buildings; but, owing to the absence of Moraga,
the formal dedication did not take place until October
9. Happy was Serra’s friend and brother,
Palou, to celebrate high mass at this dedication of
the church named after the great founder of his Order,
and none the less so were his assistants, Fathers
Cambon, Nocedal, and Pena.

Just before the founding of the Mission of San Francisco,
the Spanish Fathers witnessed an Indian battle.
Natives advanced from the region of San Mateo and
vigorously attacked the San Francisco Indians, burning
their houses and compelling them to flee on their tule
rafts to the islands and the opposite shores of the
bay. Months elapsed before these defeated Indians
returned, to afford the Fathers at San Francisco an
opportunity to work for the salvation of their souls.

In October of the following year, Serra paid his first
visit to San Francisco, and said mass on the titular
saint’s day. Then, standing near the Golden
Gate, he exclaimed: “Thanks be to God that
now our father, St. Francis, with the holy professional
cross of Missions, has reached the last limit of the
Californian continent. To go farther he must
have boats.”

The same month in which Palou dedicated the northern
Mission, found Serra, with Padre Gregorio Amurrio
and ten soldiers, wending their way from San Diego
to San Juan Capistrano, the foundation of which had
been delayed the year previous by the San Diego massacre.
They disinterred the bells and other buried materials
and without delay founded the Mission. With his
customary zeal, Serra caused the bells to be hung and
sounded, and said the dedicatory mass on November 1,
1776. The original location of this Mission,
named by the Indians Sajirit, was approximately
the site of the present church, whose pathetic ruins
speak eloquently of the frightful earthquake which
later destroyed it.

Aroused by a letter from Viceroy Bucareli, Rivera
hastened the establishment of the eighth Mission.
A place was found near the Guadalupe River, where
the Indians named Tares had four rancherias,
and which they called Thamien. Here Padre
Tomas de la Pena planted the cross, erected an enramada,
or brush shelter, and on January 12, 1777, said mass,
dedicating the new Mission to the Virgin, Santa Clara,
one of the early converts of Francis of Assisi.

Page 20

On February 3, 1777, the new governor of Alta California,
Felipe de Neve, arrived at Monterey and superseded
Rivera. He quickly established the pueblo of
San Jose, and, a year or two later, Los Angeles, the
latter under the long title of the pueblo of “Nuestra
Senora, Reina de los Angeles,”—­Our
Lady, Queen of the Angels.

In the meantime, contrary to the advice and experience
of the padres, the new Viceroy, Croix, determined
to establish two Missions on the Colorado River, near
the site of the present city of Yuma, and conduct
them not as Missions with the Fathers exercising control
over the Indians, but as towns in which the Indians
would be under no temporal restraint. The attempt
was unfortunate. The Indians fell upon the Spaniards
and priests, settlers, soldiers, and Governor Rivera
himself perished in the terrific attack. Forty-six
men met an awful fate, and the women were left to
a slavery more frightful than death. This was
the last attempt made by the Spaniards to missionize
the Yumas.

With these sad events in mind the Fathers founded
San Buenaventura on March 31, 1782. Serra himself
preached the dedicatory sermon. The Indians came
from their picturesque conical huts of tule and straw,
to watch the raising of the cross, and the gathering
at this dedication was larger than at any previous
ceremony in California; more than seventy Spaniards
with their families, together with large numbers of
Indians, being there assembled.

The next month, the presidio of Santa Barbara
was established.

In the end of 1783, Serra visited all the southern
Missions to administer confirmation to the neophytes,
and in January, 1784, he returned to San Carlos at
Monterey.

For some time his health had been failing, asthma
and a running sore on his breast both causing him
much trouble. Everywhere uneasiness was felt
at his physical condition, but though he undoubtedly
suffered keenly, he refused to take medicine.
The padres were prepared at any time to hear of his
death. But Serra calmly went on with his work.
He confirmed the neophytes at San Luis Obispo and
San Antonio, and went to help dedicate the new church
recently built at Santa Clara, and also to San Francisco.
Called back to Santa Clara by the sickness of Padre
Murguia, he was saddened by the death of that noble
and good man, and felt he ought to prepare himself
for death. But he found strength to return to
San Carlos at Monterey, and there, on Saturday, August
28, 1784, he passed to his eternal reward, at the
ripe age of seventy years, nine months and four days.
His last act was to walk to the door, in order that
he might look out upon the beautiful face of Nature.
The ocean, the sky, the trees, the valley with its
wealth of verdure, the birds, the flowers—­all
gave joy to his weary eyes. Returning to his
bed, he “fell asleep,” and his work on
earth ended. He was buried by his friend Palou
at his beloved Mission in the Carmelo Valley, and
there his dust now rests.[1]

Page 21

[1] In 1787 Padre Palou published, in the City of
Mexico, his “Life and Apostolic Labors of the
Venerable Padre Junipero Serra.” This has
never yet been translated, until this year, 1913,
the bi-centenary of his birth, when I have had the
work done by a competent scholar, revised by the eminent
Franciscan historian, Father Zephyrin Englehardt, with
annotations. It is a work of over three hundred
pages, and is an important contribution to the historic
literature of California.

CHAPTER IV

THE MISSIONS FOUNDED BY PADRE FERMIN FRANCISCO LASUEN

AT Padre Serra’s death Fermin Francisco Lasuen
was chosen to be his successor as padre-presidente.
At the time of his appointment he was the priest in
charge at San Diego. He was elected by the directorate
of the Franciscan College of San Fernando, in the
City of Mexico, February 6, 1785, and on March 13,
1787, the Sacred Congregation at Rome confirmed his
appointment, according to him the same right of confirmation
which Serra had exercised. In five years this
Father confirmed no less than ten thousand, one hundred
thirty-nine persons.

Santa Barbara was the next Mission to be founded.
For awhile it seemed that it would be located at Montecito,
now the beautiful and picturesque suburb of its larger
sister; but President Lasuen doubtless chose the site
the Mission now occupies. Well up on the foothills
of the Sierra Santa Ines, it has a commanding view
of valley, ocean and islands beyond. Indeed,
for outlook, it is doubtful if any other Mission equals
it. It was formally dedicated on December 4, 1786.

Various obstacles to the establishment of Santa Barbara
had been placed in the way of the priests. Governor
Fages wished to curtail their authority, and sought
to make innovations which the padres regarded as detrimental
in the highest degree to the Indians, as well as annoying
and humiliating to themselves. This was the reason
of the long delay in founding Santa Barbara.
It was the same with the following Mission. It
had long been decided upon. Its site was selected.
The natives called it Algsacupi. It was
to be dedicated “to the most pure and sacred
mystery of the Immaculate Conception of the most Holy
Virgin Mary, Mother of God, Queen of Heaven, Queen
of Angels, and Our Lady,” a name usually, however,
shortened in Spanish parlance to “La Purisima
Concepcion.” On December 8, 1787, Lasuen
blessed the site, raised the cross, said mass and
preached a sermon; but it was not until March, 1788,
that work on the buildings was begun. An adobe
structure, roofed with tiles, was completed in 1802,
and, ten years later, destroyed by earthquake.

The next Mission founded by Lasuen was that of Santa
Cruz. On crossing the coast range from Santa
Clara, he thus wrote: “I found in the site
the most excellent fitness which had been reported
to me. I found, beside, a stream of water, very
near, copious, and important. On August 28, the
day of Saint Augustine, I said mass, and raised a cross
on the spot where the establishment is to be.
Many gentiles came, old and young, of both sexes,
and showed that they would gladly enlist under the
Sacred Standard. Thanks be to God!”

Page 22

On Sunday, September 25, Sugert, an Indian chief of
the neighborhood, assured by the priests and soldiers
that no harm should come to him or his people by the
noise of exploding gunpowder, came to the formal founding.
Mass was said, a Te Deum chanted, and Don Hermenegildo
Sol, Commandant of San Francisco, took possession
of the place, thus completing the foundation.
To-day nothing but a memory remains of the Mission
of the Holy Cross, it having fallen into ruins and
totally disappeared.

Lasuen’s fourth Mission was founded in this
same year, 1791. He had chosen a site, called
by the Indians Chuttusgelis, and always known
to the Spaniards as Soledad, since their first occupation
of the country. Here, on October 9, Lasuen, accompanied
by Padres Sitjar and Garcia, in the presence of Lieutenant
Jose Argueello, the guard, and a few natives, raised
the cross, blessed the site, said mass, and formally
established the Mission of “Nuestra Senyora
de la Soledad.”

One interesting entry in the Mission books is worthy
of mention. In September, 1787, two vessels belonging
to the newly founded United States sailed from Boston.
The smaller of these was the “Lady Washington,”
under command of Captain Gray. In the Soledad
Mission register of baptisms, it is written that on
May 19, 1793, there was baptized a Nootka Indian,
twenty years of age, “Inquina, son of a gentile
father, named Taguasmiki, who in the year 1789 was
killed by the American Gert [undoubtedly Gray], Captain
of the vessel called ‘Washington,’ belonging
to the Congress of Boston.”

For six years no new Missions were founded: then,
in 1797, four were established, and one in 1798.
These, long contemplated, were delayed for a variety
of reasons. It was the purpose of the Fathers
to have the new Missions farther inland than those
already established, that they might reach more of
the natives: those who lived in the valleys and
on the slopes of the foothills. Besides this,
it had always been the intent of the Spanish government
that further explorations of the interior country
should take place, so that, as the Missions became
strong enough to support themselves, the Indians there
might be brought under the influence of the Church.
Governor Neve’s regulations say:

“It is made imperative to increase the number
of Reductions (stations for converting the Indians)
in proportion to the vastness of the country occupied,
and although this must be carried out in the succession
and order aforesaid, as fast as the older establishments
shall be fully secure, etc.,” and earlier,
“while the breadth of the country is unknown
(it) is presumed to be as great as the length, or greater
(200 leagues), since its greatest breadth is counted
by thousands of leagues.”

Various investigations were made by the nearest priests
in order to select the best locations for the proposed
Missions, and, in 1796, Lasuen reported the results
to the new governor, Borica, who in turn communicated
them to the Viceroy in Mexico. Approval was given
and orders issued for the establishment of the five
new Missions.

Page 23

On June 9, 1797, Lasuen left San Francisco for the
founding of the Mission San Jose, then called the
Alameda. The following day, a brush church was
erected, and, on the morrow, the usual foundation ceremonies
occurred. The natives named the site Oroysom.
Beautifully situated on the foothills, with a prominent
peak near by, it offers an extensive view over the
southern portion of the San Francisco Bay region.
At first, a wooden structure with a grass roof served
as a church; but later a brick structure was erected,
which Von Langsdorff visited in 1806.

It seems singular to us at this date that although
the easiest means of communication between the Missions
of Santa Clara, San Jose and San Francisco was by
water on the Bay of San Francisco, the padre and soldiers
at San Francisco had no boat or vessel of any kind.
Langsdorff says of this: “Perhaps the missionaries
are afraid lest if there were boats, they might facilitate
the escape of the Indians, who never wholly lose their
love of freedom and their attachment to their native
habits; they therefore consider it better to confine
their communication with one another to the means
afforded by the land. The Spaniards, as well as
their nurslings, the Indians, are very seldom under
the necessity of trusting themselves to the waves,
and if such a necessity occur, they make a kind of
boat for the occasion, of straw, reeds, and rushes,
bound together so closely as to be water-tight.
In this way they contrive to go very easily from one
shore to the other. Boats of this kind are called
walza by the Spanish. The oars consist
of a thin, long pole somewhat broader at each end,
with which the occupants row sometimes on one side,
sometimes on the other.”

For the next Mission two sites were suggested; but,
as early as June 17, Corporal Ballesteros erected
a church, missionary-house, granary, and guard-house
at the point called by the natives Popeloutchom,
and by the Spaniards, San Benito. Eight days
later, Lasuen, aided by Padres Catala and Martiarena,
founded the Mission dedicated to the saint of that
day, San Juan Bautista.

Next in order, between the two Missions of San Antonio
de Padua and San Luis Obispo, was that of “the
most glorious prince of the heavenly militia,”
San Miguel. Lasuen, aided by Sitjar, in the presence
of a large number of Indians, performed the ceremony
in the usual form, on July 25, 1797. This Mission
eventually grew to large proportions and its interior
remains to-day almost exactly as decorated by the hands
of the original priests.

San Fernando Rey was next established, on September
8, by Lasuen, aided by Padre Dumetz.

After extended correspondence between Lasuen and Governor
Borica, a site, called by the natives Tacayme,
was finally chosen for locating the next Mission,
which was to bear the name of San Luis, Rey de Francia.
Thus it became necessary to distinguish between the
two saints of the same name: San Luis, Bishop
(Obispo), and San Luis, King; but modern American
parlance has eliminated the comma, and they are respectively
San Luis Obispo and San Luis Rey. Lasuen, with
the honored Padre Peyri and Padre Santiago, conducted
the ceremonies on June 13, and the hearts of all concerned
were made glad by the subsequent baptism of fifty-four
children.

Page 24

It was as an adjunct to this Mission that Padre Peyri,
in 1816, founded the chapel of San Antonio de Pala,
twenty miles east from San Luis Rey: to which
place were removed the Palatingwas, or Agua Calientes,
evicted a few years ago from Warner’s Ranch.
This chapel has the picturesque campanile,
or small detached belfry, the pictures of which are
known throughout the world.

With the founding of San Luis Rey this branch of the
work of President Lasuen terminated. Bancroft
regards him as a greater man than Serra, and one whose
life and work entitle him to the highest praise.
He died at San Carlos on June 26, 1803, and was buried
by the side of Serra.

CHAPTER V

THE FOUNDING OF SANTA INES, SAN RAFAEL AND SAN FRANCISCO SOLANO

Estevan Tapis now became president of the Missions,
and under his direction was founded the nineteenth
Mission, that of Santa Ines, virgin and martyr.
Tapis himself conducted the ceremonies, preaching a
sermon to a large congregation, including Commandant
Carrillo, on September 17, 1804.

With Lasuen, the Mission work of California reached
its maximum power. Under his immediate successors
it began to decline. Doubtless the fact that
the original chain was completed was an influence in
the decrease of activity. For thirteen years
there was no extension. A few minor attempts
were made to explore the interior country, and many
of the names now used for rivers and locations in
the San Joaquin Valley were given at this time.
Nothing further, however, was done, until in 1817,
when such a wide-spread mortality affected the Indians
at the San Francisco Mission, that Governor Sola suggested
that the afflicted neophytes be removed to a new and
healthful location on the north shore of the San Francisco
Bay. A few were taken to what is now San Rafael,
and while some recovered, many died. These latter,
not having received the last rites of religion, were
subjects of great solicitude on the part of some of
the priests, and, at last, Father Taboada, who had
formerly been the priest at La Purisima Concepcion,
consented to take charge of this branch Mission.
The native name of the site was Nanaguani.
On December 14, Padre Sarria, assisted by several other
priests, conducted the ceremony of dedication to San
Rafael Arcangel. It was originally intended to
be an asistencia of San Francisco, but although
there is no record that it was ever formally raised
to the dignity of an independent Mission, it is called
and enumerated as such from the year 1823 in all the
reports of the Fathers. To-day, not a brick of
its walls remains; the only evidence of its existence
being the few old pear trees planted early in its
history.

There are those who contend that San Rafael was founded
as a direct check to the southward aggressions of
the Russians, who in 1812 had established Fort Ross,
but sixty-five miles north of San Francisco.
There seems, however, to be no recorded authority for
this belief, although it may easily be understood
how anxious this close proximity of the Russians made
the Spanish authorities.

Page 25

They had further causes of anxiety. The complications
between Mexico and Spain, which culminated in the
independence of the former, and then the establishment
of the Empire, gave the leaders enough to occupy their
minds.

The final establishment took place in 1823, without
any idea of founding a new Mission. The change
to San Rafael had been so beneficial to the sick Indians
that Canon Fernandez, Prefect Payeras, and Governor
Argueello decided to transfer bodily the Mission of
San Francisco from the peninsula to the mainland north
of the bay, and make San Rafael dependent upon it.
An exploring expedition was sent out which somewhat
carefully examined the whole neighborhood and finally
reported in favor of the Sonoma Valley. The report
being accepted, on July 4, 1823, a cross was set up
and blessed on the site, which was named New San Francisco.

Padre Altimira, one of the explorers, now wrote to
the new padre presidente—­Senan—­explaining
what he had done, and his reasons for so doing; stating
that San Francisco could no longer exist, and that
San Rafael was unable to subsist alone. Discussion
followed, and Sarria, the successor of Senan, who
had died, refused to authorize the change; expressing
himself astonished at the audacity of those who had
dared to take so important a step without consulting
the supreme government. Then Altimira, infuriated,
wrote to the governor, who had been a party to the
proposed removal, concluding his tirade by saying:

“I came to convert gentiles and to establish
new Missions, and if I cannot do it here, which, as
we all agree, is the best spot in California for the
purpose, I will leave the country.”

Governor Argueello assisted his priestly friend as
far as he was able, and apprised Sarria that he would
sustain the new establishment; although he would withdraw
the order for the suppression of San Rafael.
A compromise was then effected by which New San Francisco
was to remain a Mission in regular standing, but neither
San Rafael nor old San Francisco were to be disturbed.

Is it not an inspiring subject for speculation?
Where would the modern city of San Francisco be, if
the irate Father and plotting politicians of those
early days had been successful in their schemes?

The new Mission, all controversy being settled, was
formally dedicated on Passion Sunday, April 4, 1824,
by Altimira, to San Francisco Solano, “the great
apostle to the Indies.” There were now two
San Franciscos, de Asis and Solano, and because of
the inconvenience arising from this confusion, the
popular names, Dolores and Solano, and later, Sonoma,
came into use.

From the point now reached, the history of the Missions
is one of distress, anxiety, and final disaster.
Their great work was practically ended.

CHAPTER VI

THE INDIANS AT THE COMING OF THE PADRES

It is generally believed that the California Indian
in his original condition was one of the most miserable
and wretched of the world’s aborigines.
As one writer puts it:

Page 26

“When discovered by the padres
he was almost naked, half starved, living in
filthy little hovels built of tule, speaking
a meagre language broken up into as many different
and independent dialects as there were tribes,
having no laws and few definite customs, cruel,
simple, lazy, and—­in one word which
best describes such a condition of existence—­wretched.
There are some forms of savage life that we can
admire; there are others that can only excite our
disgust; of the latter were the California Indians.”

This is the general attitude taken by most writers
of this later day, as well as of the padres themselves,
yet I think I shall be able to show that in some regards
it is a mistaken one. I do not believe the Indians
were the degraded and brutal creatures the padres and
others have endeavored to make out. This is no
charge of bad faith against these writers. It
is merely a criticism of their judgment.

The fact that in a few years the Indians became remarkably
competent in so many fields of skilled labor is the
best answer to the unfounded charges of abject savagery.
Peoples are not civilized nor educated in a day.
Brains cannot be put into a monkey, no matter how well
educated his teacher is. There must have been
the mental quality, the ability to learn; or even
the miraculous patience, perseverance, and love of
the missionaries would not have availed to teach them,
in several hundred years, much less, then, in the
half-century they had them under their control, the
many things we know they learned.

The Indians, prior to the coming of the padres, were
skilled in some arts, as the making of pottery, basketry,
canoes, stone axes, arrow heads, spear heads, stone
knives, and the like. Holder says of the inhabitants
of Santa Catalina that although their implements were
of stone, wood, or shell “the skill with which
they modelled and made their weapons, mortars, and
steatite ollas, their rude mosaics of abalone
shells, and their manufacture of pipes, medicine-tubes,
and flutes give them high rank among savages.”
The mortars found throughout California, some of which
are now to be seen in the museums of Santa Barbara,
Los Angeles, San Diego, etc., are models in shape
and finish. As for their basketry, I have elsewhere[2]
shown that it alone stamps them as an artistic, mechanically
skilful, and mathematically inclined people, and the
study of their designs and their meanings reveal a
love of nature, poetry, sentiment, and religion that
put them upon a superior plane.

[2] Indian Basketry, especially the chapters on Form,
Poetry, and Symbolism.

Cabrillo was the first white man so far as we know
who visited the Indians of the coast of California.
He made his memorable journey in 1542-1543. In
1539, Ulloa sailed up the Gulf of California, and,
a year later, Alarcon and Diaz explored the Colorado
River, possibly to the point where Yuma now stands.
These three men came in contact with the Cocopahs
and the Yumas, and possibly with other tribes.

Page 27

Cabrillo tells of the Indians with whom he held communication.
They were timid and somewhat hostile at first, but
easily appeased. Some of them, especially those
living on the islands (now known as San Clemente, Santa
Catalina, Anacapa, Santa Barbara, Santa Rosa, San Miguel,
and Santa Cruz), were superior to those found inland.
They rowed in pine canoes having a seating capacity
of twelve or thirteen men, and were expert fishermen.
They dressed in the skins of animals, were rude agriculturists,
and built for themselves shelters or huts of willows,
tules, and mud.

The principal written source of authority for our
knowledge of the Indians at the time of the arrival
of the Fathers is Fray Geronimo Boscana’s Chinigchinich:
A Historical Account, etc., of the Indians of San
Juan Capistrano. There are many interesting
things in this account, some of importance, and others
of very slight value. He insists that there was
a great difference in the intelligence of the natives
north of Santa Barbara and those to the south, in
favor of the former. Of these he says they “are
much more industrious, and appear an entirely distinct
race. They formed, from shells, a kind of money,
which passed current among them, and they constructed
out of logs very swift and excellent canoes for fishing.”

Of the character of his Indians he had a very poor
idea. He compares them to monkeys who imitate,
and especially in their copying the ways of the white
men, “whom they respect as beings much superior
to themselves; but in so doing, they are careful to
select vice in preference to virtue. This is
the result, undoubtedly, of their corrupt and natural
disposition.”

Of the language of the California Indians, Boscana
says there was great diversity, finding a new dialect
almost every fifteen to twenty leagues.

They were not remarkably industrious, yet the men
made their home utensils, bows and arrows, the several
instruments used in making baskets, and also constructed
nets, spinning the thread from yucca fibres, which
they beat and prepared for that purpose. They
also built the houses.

The women gathered seeds, prepared them, and did the
cooking, as well as all the household duties.
They made the baskets, all other utensils being made
by the men.

The dress of the men, when they dressed at all, consisted
of the skins of animals thrown over the shoulders,
leaving the rest of the body exposed, but the women
wore a cloak and dress of twisted rabbit-skins.
I have found these same rabbit-skin dresses in use
by Mohave and Yumas within the past three or four
years.

Page 28

The youths were required to keep away from the fire,
in order that they might learn to suffer with bravery
and courage. They were forbidden also to eat
certain kinds of foods, to teach them to bear deprivation
and to learn to control their appetites. In addition
to these there were certain ceremonies, which included
fasting, abstinence from drinking, and the production
of hallucinations by means of a vegetable drug, called
pivat (still used, by the way, by some of the Indians
of Southern California), and the final branding of
the neophyte, which Boscana describes as follows:
“A kind of herb was pounded until it became
sponge-like; this they placed, according to the figure
required, upon the spot intended to be burnt, which
was generally upon the right arm, and sometimes upon
the thick part of the leg also. They then set
fire to it, and let it remain until all that was combustible
was consumed. Consequently, a large blister immediately
formed, and although painful, they used no remedy
to cure it, but left it to heal itself; and thus, a
large and perpetual scar remained. The reason
alleged for this ceremony was that it added greater
strength to the nerves, and gave a better pulse for
the management of the bow.” This ceremony
was called potense.

The education of the girls was by no means neglected.

“They were taught to remain at
home, and not to roam about in idleness; to be
always employed in some domestic duty, so that,
when they were older, they might know how to work,
and attend to their household duties; such as
procuring seeds, and cleaning them—­making
‘atole’ and ‘pinole,’ which
are kinds of gruel, and their daily food.
When quite young, they have a small, shallow
basket, called by the natives ‘tucmel,’
with which they learn the way to clean the seeds,
and they are also instructed in grinding, and
preparing the same for consumption.”

When a girl was married, her father gave her good
advice as to her conduct. She must be faithful
to her wifely duties and do nothing to disgrace either
her husband or her parents. Children of tender
years were sometimes betrothed by their parents.
Padre Boscana says he married a couple, the girl having
been but eight or nine months old, and the boy two
years, when they were contracted for by their parents.

Childbirth was natural and easy with them, as it generally
is with all primitive peoples. An Indian woman
has been known to give birth to a child, walk half
a mile to a stream, step into it and wash both herself
and the new-born babe, then return to her camp, put
her child in a yakia, or basket cradle-carrier,
sling it over her back, and start on a four or five
mile journey, on foot, up the rocky and steep sides
of a canyon.

A singular custom prevailed among these people, not
uncommon elsewhere. The men, when their wives
were suffering their accouchement, would abstain from
all flesh and fish, refrain from smoking and all diversions,
and stay within the Kish, or hut, from fifteen
to twenty days.

Page 29

The god of the San Juan Indians was Chinigchinich,
and it is possible, from similarity in the ways of
appearing and disappearing, that he is the monster
Tauguitch of the Sabobas and Cahuillas described in
The Legend of Tauguitch and Algoot.[3] This god was
a queer compound of goodness and evil, who taught
them all the rites and ceremonies that they afterwards
observed.

[3] See Folk Lore Journal, 1904.

Many of the men and a few women posed as possessing
supernatural powers—­witches, in fact, and
such was the belief in their power that, “without
resistance, all immediately acquiesce in their demands.”
They also had physicians who used cold water, plasters
of herbs, whipping with nettles (doubtless the principle
of the counter irritant), the smoke of certain plants,
and incantations, with a great deal of general, all-around
humbug to produce their cures.

But not all the medicine ideas and methods of the
Indians were to be classed as humbug. Dr. Cephas
L. Bard, who, besides extolling their temescals, or
sweat-baths, their surgical abilities, as displayed
in the operations that were performed upon skulls
that have since been exhumed; their hygienic customs,
which he declares “are not only commendable,
but worthy of the consideration of an advanced civilization,”
states further:

“It has been reserved for the
California Indian to furnish three of the most
valuable vegetable additions which have been
made to the Pharmacopoeia during the last twenty years.
One, the Eriodictyon Glutinosum, growing profusely
in our foothills, was used by them in affections
of the respiratory tract, and its worth was so
appreciated by the Missionaries as to be named
Yerba Santa, or Holy Plant. The second, the Rhamnus
purshiana, gathered now for the market in the upper
portions of the State, is found scattered through
the timbered mountains of Southern California.
It was used as a laxative, and on account of
the constipating effect of an acorn diet, was
doubtless in active demand. So highly was it
esteemed by the followers of the Cross that it
was christened Cascara Sagrada, or Sacred Bark.
The third, Grindelia robusta, was used in the
treatment of pulmonary troubles, and externally
in poisoning from Rhus toxicodendron, or Poison Oak,
and in various skin diseases.”

Their food was of the crudest and simplest character.
Whatever they could catch they ate, from deer or bear
to grasshoppers, lizards, rats, and snakes. In
baskets of their own manufacture, they gathered all
kinds of wild seeds, and after using a rude process
of threshing, they winnowed them. They also gathered
mesquite beans in large quantities, burying them in
pits for a month or two, in order to extract from them
certain disagreeable flavors, and then storing them
in large and rudely made willow granaries. But,
as Dr. Bard well says:

Page 30

“Of the Vegetable articles of
diet the acorn was the principal one. It
was deprived of its bitter taste by grinding,
running through sieves made of interwoven grasses,
and frequent washings. Another one was Chia,
the seeds of Salvia Columbariae, which in appearance
are somewhat similar to birdseed. They were
roasted, ground, and used as a food by being
mixed with water. Thus prepared, it soon develops
into a mucilaginous mass, larger than its original
bulk. Its taste is somewhat like that of
linseed meal. It is exceedingly nutritious,
and was readily borne by the stomach when that organ
refused to tolerate other aliment. An atole, or
gruel, of this was one of the peace offerings
to the first visiting sailors. One tablespoonful
of these seeds was sufficient to sustain for
twenty-four hours an Indian on a forced march.
Chia was no less prized by the native Californian,
and at this late date it frequently commands
$6 or $8 a pound.

“The pinion, the fruit of the
pine, was largely used, and until now annual
expeditions are made by the few surviving members
of the coast tribes to the mountains for a supply.
That they cultivated maize in certain localities,
there can be but little doubt. They intimated
to Cabrillo by signs that such was the case,
and the supposition is confirmed by the presence
at various points of vestiges of irrigating ditches.
Yslay, the fruit of the wild cherry, was used
as a food, and prepared by fermentation as an
intoxicant. The seeds, ground and made into
balls, were esteemed highly. The fruit of the
manzanita, the seeds of burr clover, malva, and
alfileri, were also used. Tunas, the fruit
of the cactus, and wild blackberries, existed
in abundance, and were much relished. A sugar
was extracted from a certain reed of the tulares.”

Acorns, seeds, mesquite beans, and dried meat were
all pounded up in a well made granite mortar, on the
top of which, oftentimes, a basket hopper was fixed
by means of pine gum. Some of these mortars were
hewn from steatite, or soapstone, others from a rough
basic rock, and many of them were exceedingly well
made and finely shaped; results requiring much patience
and no small artistic skill. Oftentimes these
mortars were made in the solid granite rocks or boulders,
found near the harvesting and winnowing places, and
I have photographed many such during late years.

These Indians were polygamists, but much of what the
missionaries and others have called their obscenities
and vile conversations, were the simple and unconscious
utterances of men and women whose instincts were not
perverted. It is the invariable testimony of all
careful observers of every class that as a rule the
aborigines were healthy, vigorous, virile, and chaste,
until they became demoralized by the whites. With
many of them certain ceremonies had a distinct flavor
of sex worship: a rude phallicism which exists
to the present day. To the priests, as to most
modern observers, these rites were offensive and obscene,
but to the Indians they were only natural and simple
prayers for the fruitfulness of their wives and of
the other producing forces.

Page 31

J.S. Hittell says of the Indians of California:

“They had no religion, no conception
of a deity, or of a future life, no idols, no
form of worship, no priests, no philosophical
conceptions, no historical traditions, no proverbs,
no mode of recording thought before the coming of
the missionaries among them.”

Seldom has there been so much absolute misstatement
as in this quotation. Jeremiah Curtin, a life-long
student of the Indian, speaking of the same Indians,
makes a remark which applies with force to these statements:

“The Indian, at every step,
stood face to face with divinity as he knew or
understood it. He could never escape from
the presence of those powers who had made the first
world.... The most important question of
all in Indian life was communication with divinity,
intercourse with the spirits of divine personages.”

In his Creation Myths of Primitive America,
this studious author gives the names of a number of
divinities, and the legends connected with them.
He affirms positively that

“the most striking thing in all
savage belief is the low estimate put upon man,
when unaided by divine, uncreated power.
In Indian belief every object in the universe is divine
except man!”

As to their having no priests, no forms of worship,
no philosophical conceptions, no historical traditions,
no proverbs, any one interested in the Indian of to-day
knows that these things are untrue. Whence came
all the myths and legends that recent writers have
gathered, a score of which I myself hold still unpublished
in my notebook? Were they all imagined after
the arrival of the Mission Fathers? By no means!
They have been handed down for countless centuries,
and they come to us, perhaps a little corrupted, but
still just as accurate as do the songs of Homer.

Every tribe had its medicine men, who were developed
by a most rigorous series of tests; such as would
dismay many a white man. As to their philosophical
conceptions and traditions, Curtin well says that in
them

“we have a monument of thought
which is absolutely unequalled, altogether unique
in human experience. The special value of
this thought lies, moreover, in the fact that
it is primitive; that it is the thought of ages long
anterior to those which we find recorded in the
eastern hemisphere, either in sacred books, in
histories, or in literature, whether preserved
on baked brick, burnt cylinders, or papyrus.”

And if we go to the Pueblo Indians, the Navahos, the
Pimas, and others, all of whom were brought more or
less under the influence of the Franciscans, we find
a mass of beliefs, deities, traditions, conceptions,
and proverbs, which would overpower Mr. Hittell merely
to collate.

Therefore, let it be distinctly understood that the
Indian was not the thoughtless, unimaginative, irreligious,
brutal savage which he is too often represented to
be. He thought, and thought well, but still originally.
He was religious, profoundly and powerfully so, but
in his own way; he was a philosopher, but not according
to Hittell; he was a worshipper, but not after the
method of Serra, Palou, and their priestly coadjutors.

Page 32

CHAPTER VII

THE INDIANS UNDER THE PADRES

The first consideration of the padres in dealing with
the Indians was the salvation of their souls.
Of this no honest and honorable man can hold any question.
Serra and his coadjutors believed, without equivocation
or reserve, the doctrines of the Church. As one
reads his diary, his thought on this matter is transparent.
In one place he thus naively writes: “It
seemed to me that they (the Indians) would fall shortly
into the apostolic and evangelic net.”

This accomplished, the Indians must be kept Christians,
educated and civilized. Here is the crucial point.
In reading criticisms upon the Mission system of dealing
with the Indians, one constantly meets with such passages
as the following: “The fatal defect of this
whole Spanish system was that no effort was made to
educate the Indians, or teach them to read, and think,
and act for themselves.”

To me this kind of criticism is both unjust and puerile.
What is education? What is civilization?

Expert opinions as to these matters vary considerably,
and it is in the very nature of men that they should
vary. The Catholics had their ideas and they
sought to carry them out with care and fidelity.
How far they succeeded it is for the unprejudiced
historians and philosophers of the future to determine.
Personally, I regard the education given by the padres
as eminently practical, even though I materially differ
from them as to some of the things they regarded as
religious essentials. Yet in honor it must be
said that if I, or the Church to which I belong, or
you and the Church to which you belong, reader, had
been in California in those early days, your religious
teaching or mine would have been entitled, justly,
to as much criticism and censure as have ever been
visited upon that of the padres. They did the
best they knew, and, as I shall soon show, they did
wonderfully well, far better than the enlightened
government to which we belong has ever done. Certain
essentials stood out before them. These were,
to see that the Indians were baptized, taught the
ritual of the Church, lived as nearly as possible
according to the rules laid down for them, attended
the services regularly, did their proper quota of
work, were faithful husbands and wives and dutiful
children. Feeling that they were indeed fathers
of a race of children, the priests required obedience
and work, as the father of any well-regulated American
household does. And as a rule these “children,”
though occasionally rebellious, were willingly obedient.

Under this regime it is unquestionably true that the
lot of the Indians was immeasurably improved from
that of their aboriginal condition. They were
kept in a state of reasonable cleanliness, were well
clothed, were taught and required to do useful work,
learned many new and helpful arts, and were instructed
in the elemental matters of the Catholic faith.
All these things were a direct advance.

Page 33

It should not be overlooked, however, that the Spanish
government provided skilled laborers from Spain or
Mexico, and paid their hire, for the purpose of aiding
the settlers in the various pueblos that were established.
Master mechanics, carpenters, blacksmiths, and stone
masons are mentioned in Governor Neve’s Rules
and Regulations, and it is possible that some of the
Indians were taught by these skilled artisans.
Under the guidance of the padres some of them were
taught how to weave. Cotton was both grown and
imported, and all the processes of converting it,
and wool also, into cloth, were undertaken with skill
and knowledge.

At San Juan Capistrano the swing and thud of the loom
were constantly heard, there having been at one time
as many as forty weavers all engaged at once in this
useful occupation.

San Gabriel and San Luis Rey also had many expert
weavers.

At all the Missions the girls and women, as well as
the men, had their share in the general education.
They had always been seed gatherers, grinders, and
preparers of the food, and now they were taught the
civilized methods of doing these things. Many
became tailors as well as weavers; others learned
to dye the made fabrics, as in the past they had dyed
their basketry splints; and still others—­indeed
nearly all—­became skilled in the delicate
art of lace-making and drawn-work. They were
natural adepts at fine embroidery, as soon as the use
of the needle and colored threads was shown them,
and some exquisite work is still preserved that they
accomplished in this field. As candy-makers they
soon became expert and manifested judicious taste.

To return to the men. Many of them became herders
of cattle, horses and sheep, teamsters, and butchers.
At San Gabriel alone a hundred cattle were slaughtered
every Saturday as food for the Indians themselves.
The hides of all slain animals were carefully preserved,
and either tanned for home use or shipped East.
Dana in Two Years Before the Mast gives interesting
pictures of hide-shipping at San Juan Capistrano.
A good tanner is a skilled laborer, and these Indians
were not only expert makers of dressed leather, but
they tanned skins and peltries with the hair or fur
on. Indeed I know of many wonderful birds’
skins, dressed with the feathers on, that are still
in perfect preservation. As workers in leather
they have never been surpassed. Many saddles,
bridles, etc., were needed for Mission use, and
as the ranches grew in numbers, they created a large
market. It must be remembered that horseback riding
was the chief method of travel in California for over
a hundred years. Their carved leather work is
still the wonder of the world. In the striking
character of their designs, in the remarkable adaptation
of the design, in its general shape and contour, to
the peculiar form of the object to be decorated,—­a
stirrup, a saddle, a belt, etc.,—­and
in the digital and manual dexterity demanded by its
execution, nothing is left to be desired. Equally
skilful were they in taking the horn of an ox or mountain
sheep, heating it, and then shaping it into a drinking-cup,
a spoon, or a ladle, and carving upon it designs that
equal those found upon the pottery of the ancient
world.

Page 34

Shoemaking was extensively carried on, for sale on
the ranches and to the trading-vessels. Tallow
was tried out by the ton and run into underground
brick vaults, some of which would hold in one mass
several complete ship-loads. This was quarried
out and then hauled to San Pedro, or the nearest port,
for shipment. Sometimes it was run into great
bags made of hides, that would hold from five hundred
to a thousand pounds each, and then shipped.

Many of the Indians became expert carpenters, and
a few even might be classed as fair cabinet-makers.
There were wheelwrights and cart-makers who made the
“carretas” that are now the joy of the
relic-hunter. These were clumsy ox-carts, with
wheels made of blocks, sawed or chopped off from the
end of a large round log; a big hole was then bored,
chiseled, or burned through its center, enabling it
to turn on a rude wooden axle. Soap or tallow
was sometimes used as a lubricant. This was the
only wheeled conveyance in California as late as 1840.
Other Indians did the woodwork in buildings, made
fences, etc. Some were carvers, and there
are not a few specimens of their work that will bear
comparison with the work of far more pretentious artisans.

Many of them became’ blacksmiths and learned
to work well in iron. In the Coronel Collection
in the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce are many specimens
of the ironwork of the San Fernando neophytes.
The work of this Mission was long and favorably known
as that of superior artisans. The collection
includes plough-points, anvils, bells, hoes, chains,
locks and keys, spurs, hinges, scissors, cattle-brands,
and other articles of use in the Mission communities.
There are also fine specimens of hammered copper,
showing their ability in this branch of the craftsman’s
art. As there was no coal at this time in California,
these metal-workers all became charcoal-burners.

Bricks of adobe and also burned bricks and tiles were
made at every Mission, I believe, and in later years
tiles were made for sale for the houses of the more
pretentious inhabitants of the pueblos. As lime
and cement were needed, the Indians were taught how
to burn the lime of the country, and the cement work
then done remains to this day as solid as when it
was first put down.

Many of them became expert bricklayers and stone-masons
and cutters, as such work as that found at San Luis
Rey, San Juan Capistrano, San Carlos, Santa Ines,
and other Missions most eloquently testifies.

It is claimed that much of the distemper painting
upon the church walls was done by the Indians, though
surely it would be far easier to believe that the
Fathers did it than they. For with their training
in natural design, as shown in their exquisite baskets,
and the work they accomplished in leather carving,
I do not hesitate to say that mural decorations would
have been far more artistic in design, more harmonious
in color, and more skilfully executed if the Indians
had been left to their own native ability.

Page 35

A few became silversmiths, though none ever accomplished
much in this line. They made better sandal-makers,
shoemakers, and hatters. As horse-trainers they
were speedily most efficient, the cunning of their
minds finding a natural outlet in gaining supremacy
over the lower animal. They braided their own
riatas from rawhide, and soon surpassed their teachers
in the use of them. They were fearless hunters
with them, often “roping” the mountain
lion and even going so far as to capture the dangerous
grizzly bears with no other “weapon,” and
bring them down from the mountains for their bear
and bull fights. As vaqueros, or cowboys, they
were a distinct class. As daring riders as the
world has ever seen, they instinctively knew the arts
of herding cattle and sheep, and soon had that whole
field of work in their keeping. “H.H.,”
in Ramona, has told what skilled sheep-shearers
they were, and there are Indian bands to-day in Southern
California whose services are eagerly sought at good
wages because of their thoroughness, skill and rapidity.

Now, with this list of achievements, who shall say
they were not educated? Something more than lack
of education must be looked for as the reason for
the degradation and disappearance of the Indian, and
in the next chapter I think I can supply that missing
reason.

At the end of sixty years, more than thirty thousand
Indian converts lodged in the Mission buildings, under
the direct and immediate guidance of the Fathers,
and performed their allotted daily labors with cheerfulness
and thoroughness. There were some exceptions necessarily,
but in the main the domination of the missionaries
was complete.

It has often been asked: “What became of
all the proceeds of the work of the Mission Indians?
Did the padres claim it personally? Was it sent
to the mother house in Mexico?” etc.
These questions naturally enter the minds of those
who have read the criticisms of such writers as Wilson,
Guinn, and Scanland. In regard to the missionaries,
they were under a vow of poverty. As to the mother
house, it is asserted on honor that up to 1838 not
even as much as a curio had been sent there.
After that, as is well known, there was nothing to
send. The fact is, the proceeds all went into
the Indian Community Fund for the benefit of the Indians,
or the improvement of their Mission church, gardens,
or workshops. The most careful investigations
by experts have led to but one opinion, and that is
that in the early days there was little or no foundation
for the charge that the padres were accumulating money.
During the revolution it is well known that the Missions
practically supported the military for a number of
years, even though the padres, their wards, and their
churches all suffered in consequence.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SECULARIZATION OF THE MISSIONS

Page 36

It was not the policy or intention of the Government
of Spain to found Missions in the New World solely
for the benefit of the natives. Philanthropic
motives doubtless influenced the rulers to a certain
degree; but to civilize barbarous peoples and convert
them to the Catholic faith meant not only the rescue
of savages from future perdition, but the enlargement
of the borders of the Church, the preparation for
future colonization, and, consequently, the extension
of Spanish power and territory.

At the very inception of the Missions this was the
complex end in view; but the padres who were commissioned
to initiate these enterprises were, almost without
exception, consecrated to one work only,—­the
salvation of souls.

In the course of time this inevitably led to differences
of opinion between the missionaries and the secular
authorities in regard to the wisest methods of procedure.
In spite of the arguments of the padres, these conflicts
resulted in the secularization of some of the Missions
prior to the founding of those in California; but the
condition of the Indians on the Pacific Coast led
the padres to believe that secularization was a result
possible only in a remote future. They fully
understood that the Missions were not intended to become
permanent institutions, yet faced the problem of converting
a savage race into christianized self-supporting civilians
loyal to the Spanish Crown,—­a problem which
presented perplexities and difficulties neither understood
nor appreciated at the time by the government authorities
in Spain or Mexico, nor by the mass of critics of
the padres in our own day.

Whatever may have been the mental capacity, ability,
and moral status of the Indians from one point of
view, it is certain that the padres regarded them
as ignorant, vile, incapable, and totally lost without
the restraining and educating influences of the Church.
As year after year opened up the complexities of the
situation, the padres became more and more convinced
that it would require an indefinite period of time
to develop these untamed children into law-abiding
citizens, according to the standard of the white aggressors
upon their territory.

On the other hand, aside from envy, jealousy, and
greed, there were reasons why some of the men in authority
honestly believed a change in the Mission system of
administration would be advantageous to the natives,
the Church, and the State.

There is a good as well as an evil side to the great
subject of “secularization.” In England
the word used is “disestablishment.”
In the United States, to-day, for our own government,
the general sentiment of most of its inhabitants is
in favor of what is meant by “secularization,”
though of course in many particulars the cases are
quite different. In other words, it means the
freedom of the Church from the control or help of
the State. In such an important matter there is
bound to be great diversity of opinion. Naturally,

Page 37

the church that is “disestablished” will
be a most bitter opponent of the plan, as was the
Church in Ireland, in Scotland, and in Wales.
In England the “dissenters”—­as
all the members of the nonconformist churches are
entitled—­are practically unanimous for the
disestablishment of the State or Episcopal Church,
while the Episcopalians believe that such an act would
“provoke the wrath of God upon the country wicked
enough to perpetrate it.” The same conflict—­in
a slightly different field—­is that being
waged in the United States to-day against giving aid
to any church in its work of educating either white
children or Indians in its own sectarian institutions.
All the leading churches of the country have, I believe,
at some time or other in their history, been willing
to receive, and actually have received, government
aid in the caring for and education of Indians.
To-day it is a generally accepted policy that no such
help shall be given. But the question at issue
is: Was the secularization of the Missions by
Mexico a wise, just, and humane measure at the time
of its adoption? Let the following history tell.

From the founding of the San Diego Mission in 1769,
until about sixty years later, the padres were practically
in undisturbed possession, administering affairs in
accordance with the instructions issued by the viceroys
and the mother house of Mexico.

In 1787 Inspector Sola claimed that the Indians were
then ready for secularization; and if there be any
honor connected with the plan eventually followed,
it practically belongs to him. For, though none
of his recommendations were accepted, he suggested
the overthrow of the old methods for others which
were somewhat of the same character as those carried
out many years later.

In 1793 Viceroy Gigedo referred to the secularization
of certain Missions which had taken place in Mexico,
and expressed his dissatisfaction with the results.
Three years later, Governor Borica, writing on the
same subject, expressed his opinion with force and
emphasis, as to the length of time it would take to
prepare the California Indians for citizenship.
He said: “Those of New California, at the
rate they are advancing, will not reach the goal in
ten centuries; the reason God knows, and men know
something about it.”

In 1813 came the first direct attack upon the Mission
system from the Cortes in Spain. Prior to this
time a bishop had been appointed to have charge over
church affairs in California, but there were too few
parish churches, and he had too few clergy to send
to such a far-away field to think of disturbing the
present system for the Indians. But on September
13, 1813, the Cortes passed a decree that all the Missions
in America that had been founded ten years should
at once be given up to the bishop “without excuse
or pretext whatever, in accordance with the laws.”
The Mission Fathers in charge might be appointed as
temporary curates, but, of course, under the control

Page 38

of the bishop instead of the Mission president as
hitherto. This decree, for some reason, was not
officially published or known in California for seven
or eight years; but when, on January 20, 1821, Viceroy
Venadito did publish the royal confirmation of the
decree, the guardian of the college in Mexico ordered
the president of the California Missions to comply
at once with its requirements. He was to surrender
all property, but to exact a full inventoried receipt,
and he was to notify the bishop that the missionaries
were ready to surrender their charges to their successors.
In accordance with this order, President Payeras notified
Governor Sola of his readiness to give up the Missions,
and rejoiced in the opportunity it afforded his co-workers
to engage in new spiritual conquests among the heathen.
But this was a false alarm. The bishop responded
that the decree had not been enforced elsewhere, and
as for him the California padres might remain at their
posts. Governor Sola said he had received no official
news of so important a change, but that when he did
he “would act with the circumspection and prudence
which so delicate a subject demands.”

With Iturbide’s imperial regency came a new
trouble to California, largely provoked by thoughts
of the great wealth of the Missions. The imperial
decree creating the regency was not announced until
the end of 1821, and practically all California acquiesced
in it. But in the meantime Agustin Fernandez
de San Vicente had been sent as a special commissioner
to “learn the feelings of the Californians, to
foment a spirit of independence, to obtain an oath
of allegiance, to raise the new national flag,”
and in general to superintend the change of government.
He arrived in Monterey September 26, but found nothing
to alarm him, as nobody seemed to care much which
way things went. Then followed the “election”
of a new governor, and the wire-pullers announced
that Luis Argueello was the “choice of the convention.”

In 1825 the Mexican republic may be said to have become
fairly well established. Iturbide was out of
the way, and the politicians were beginning to rule.
A new “political chief” was now sent to
California in the person of Jose Maria Echeandia,
who arrived in San Diego late in October, 1825.
While he and his superiors in Mexico were desirous
of bringing about secularization, the difficulties
in the way seemed insurmountable. The Missions
were practically the backbone of the country; without
them all would crumble to pieces, and the most fanatical
opponent of the system could not fail to see that without
the padres it would immediately fall. As Clinch
well puts it: “The converts raised seven
eighths of the farm produce;—­the Missions
had gathered two hundred thousand bushels in a single
harvest. All manufacturing in the province—­weaving,
tanning, leather-work, flour-mills, soap-making—­was
carried on exclusively by the pupils of the Franciscans.
It was more than doubtful whether they could be got
to work under any other management, and a sudden cessation
of labor might ruin the whole territory.”

Page 39

Something must be done, so, after consultation with
some of the more advanced of the padres, the governor
issued a proclamation July 25, 1826, announcing to
the Indians that those who desired to leave the Missions
might do so, provided they had been Christians from
childhood, or for fifteen years, were married, or
at least not minors, and had some means of gaining
a livelihood. The Indians must apply to the commandant
at the presidio, who, after obtaining from the padre
a report, was to issue a written permit entitling
the neophyte and his family to go where they chose,
their names being erased from the Mission register.
The result of this might readily be foreseen.
Few could take advantage of it, and those that did
soon came in contact with vultures of the “superior
race,” who proceeded to devour them and their
substance.

Between July 29 and August 3, 1830, Echeandia had
the California diputacion discuss his fuller
plans, which they finally approved. These provided
for the gradual transformation of the Missions into
pueblos, beginning with those nearest the presidios
and pueblos, of which one or two were to be secularized
within a year, and the rest as rapidly as experience
proved practicable. Each neophyte was to have
a share in the Mission lands and other property.
The padres might remain as curates, or establish a
new line of Missions among the hitherto unreached
Indians as they should choose. Though this plan
was passed, it was not intended that it should be
carried out until approved by the general government
of Mexico.

All this seems singular to us now, reading three quarters
of a century later, for, March 8, 1830, Manuel Victoria
was appointed political chief in Echeandia’s
stead; but as he did not reach San Diego until November
or December, and in the meantime a new element had
been introduced into the secularization question in
the person of Jose Maria Padres, Echeandia resolved
upon a bold stroke. He delayed meeting Victoria,
lured him up to Santa Barbara, and kept him there under
various pretexts until he had had time to prepare
and issue a decree. This was dated January 6,
1831. It was a political trick, “wholly
illegal, uncalled for, and unwise.” He
decreed immediate secularization of all the Missions,
and the turning into towns of Carmel and San Gabriel.
The ayuntamiento of Monterey, in accordance with the
decree, chose a commissioner for each of the seven
Missions of the district. These were Juan B.
Alvarado for San Luis Obispo, Jose Castro for San Miguel,
Antonio Castro for San Antonio, Tiburcio Castro for
Soledad, Juan Higuera for San Juan Bautista, Sebastian
Rodriguez for Santa Cruz, and Manuel Crespo for San
Carlos. Castro and Alvarado were sent to San
Miguel and San Luis Obispo respectively, where they
read the decree and made speeches to the Indians;
at San Miguel, Alvarado made a spread-eagle speech
from a cart and used all his eloquence to persuade
the Indians to adopt the plan of freemen. “Henceforth

Page 40

their trials were to be over. No tyrannical priest
could compel them to work. They were to be citizens
in a free and glorious republic, with none to molest
or make them afraid.” Then he called for
those who wished to enjoy these blessings of freedom
to come to the right, while those who were content
to remain under the hideous bondage of the Missions
could go to the left. Imagine his surprise and
the chill his oratory received when all but a small
handful quickly went to the left, and those who at
first went to the right speedily joined the majority.
At San Luis and San Antonio the Indians also preferred
“slavery.”

By this time Victoria began to see that he was being
played with, so he hurried to Monterey and demanded
the immediate surrender of the office to which he
was entitled. One of his first acts was to nullify
Echeandia’s decree, and to write to Mexico and
explain fully that it was undoubtedly owing to the
influence of Padres, whom he well knew. But before
the end of the year Echeandia and his friends rose
in rebellion, deposed, and exiled Victoria. Owing
to the struggles then going on in Mexico, which culminated
in Santa Anna’s dictatorship, the revolt of
Echeandia was overlooked and Figueroa appointed governor
in his stead.

For a time Figueroa held back the tide of secularization,
while Carlos Carrillo, the Californian delegate to
the Mexican Congress, was doing all he could to keep
the Missions and the Pious Fund intact. Figueroa
then issued a series of provisional regulations on
gradual emancipation, hoping to be relieved from further
responsibility by the Mexican government.

This only came in the passage of an Act, August 17,
1833, decreeing full secularization. The Act
also provided for the colonization of both the Californias,
the expenses of this latter move to be borne by the
proceeds gained from the distribution of the Mission
property. A shrewd politician named Hijars was
to be made governor of Upper California for the purpose
of carrying this law into effect.

But now Figueroa seemed to regret his first action.
Perhaps it was jealousy that Hijars should have been
appointed to his stead. He bitterly opposed Hijars,
refused to give up the governorship, and after considerable
“pulling and hauling,” issued secularization
orders of his own, greatly at variance with those
promulgated by the Mexican Cortes, and proceeded to
set them in operation.

Ten Missions were fully secularized in 1834, and six
others in the following year. And now came the
general scramble for Mission property. Each succeeding
governor, freed from too close supervision by the
general government in Mexico, which was passing through
trials and tribulations of its own, helped himself
to as much as he could get. Alvarado, from 1836
to 1842, plundered on every hand, and Pio Pico was
not much better. When he became governor, there
were few funds with which to carry on the affairs
of the country, and he prevailed upon the assembly
to pass a decree authorizing the renting or the sale
of the Mission property, reserving only the church,
a curate’s house, and a building for a court-house.
From the proceeds the expenses of conducting the services
of the church were to be provided, but there was no
disposition made as to what should be done to secure
the funds for that purpose. Under this decree
the final acts of spoliation were consummated.

Page 41

The padres took the matter in accordance with their
individual temperaments. Some were hopefully
cheerful, and did the best they could for their Indian
charges; others were sulky and sullen, and retired
to the chambers allotted to them, coming forth only
when necessary duty called; still others were belligerent,
and fought everything and everybody, and, it must
be confessed, generally with just cause.

As for the Indians, the effect was exactly as all
thoughtful men had foreseen. Those who received
property seldom made good use of it, and soon lost
it. Cattle were neglected, tools unused, for there
were none to compel their care or use. Consequently
it was easy to convert them into money, which was
soon gambled or drunk away. Rapidly they sank
from worse to worse, until now only a few scattered
settlements remain of the once vast number, thirty
thousand or more, that were reasonably happy and prosperous
under the rule of the padres.

CHAPTER IX

SAN DIEGO DE ALCALA

The story of the founding of San Diego by Serra has
already been given. It was the beginning of the
realization of his fondest hopes. The early troubles
with the Indians delayed conversions, but in 1773 Serra
reported that some headway had been made. He gives
the original name of the place as Cosoy, in
32 deg. 43’, built on a hill two gunshots from
the shore, and facing the entrance to the port at
Point Guijarros. The missionaries left in charge
were Padres Fernando Parron and Francisco Gomez.

About the middle of July ill health compelled Parron
to retire to Lower California and Gomez to Mexico,
and Padres Luis Jayme and Francisco Dumetz took their
places.

San Diego was in danger of being abandoned for lack
of provisions, for in 1772 Padre Crespi, who was at
San Carlos, writes that on the thirtieth of March
of that year “the mail reached us with the lamentable
news that this Mission of San Diego was to be abandoned
for lack of victuals.” Serra then sent
him with “twenty-two mules, and with them fifteen
half-loads of flour” for their succor. Padres
Dumetz and Cambon had gone out to hunt for food to
the Lower California Missions. The same scarcity
was noticed at San Gabriel, and the padres, “for
a considerable time, already, had been using the supplies
which were on hand to found the Mission of San Buenaventura;
and though they have drawn their belts tight
there remains to them provisions only for two months
and a half.”

Fortunately help came; so the work continued.

The region of San Diego was well peopled. At
the time of the founding there were eleven rancherias
within a radius of ten leagues. They must have
been of a different type from most of the Indians of
the coast, for, from the first, as the old Spanish
chronicler reports, they were insolent, arrogant,
and thievish. They lived on grass seeds, fish,
and rabbits.

Page 42

In 1774, the separation of the Mission from the presidio
was decided upon, in order to remove the neophytes
from the evil influences of the soldiers. The
site chosen was six miles up the valley (named Nipaguay
by the Indians), and so well did all work together
that by the end of the year a dwelling, a storehouse,
a smithy built of adobes, and a wooden church eighteen
by fifty-seven feet, and roofed with tiles, were completed.
Already the work of the padres had accomplished much.
Seventy-six neophytes rejoiced their religious hearts,
and the herds had increased to 40 cattle, 64 sheep,
55 goats, 19 hogs, 2 jacks, 2 burros, 17 mares, 3
foals, 9 horses, 22 mules,—­233 animals in
all.

The presidio remained at Cosoy (now old San Diego),
and four thousand adobes that had been made for the
Mission buildings were turned over to the military.
A rude stockade was erected, with two bronze cannon,
one mounted towards the harbor, the other towards
the Indian rancheria.

The experiments in grain raising at first were not
successful. The seed was sown in the river bottom
and the crop was destroyed by the unexpected rising
of the river. The following year it was sown so
far from water that it died from drought. In
the fall of 1775 all seemed to be bright with hope.
New buildings had been erected, a well dug, and more
land made ready for sowing. The Indians were showing
greater willingness to submit themselves to the priests,
when a conflict occurred that revealed to the padres
what they might have to contend with in their future
efforts towards the Christianizing of the natives.
The day before the feast of St. Francis (October 4,
1775), Padres Jayme and Fuster were made happy by
being required to baptize sixty new converts.
Yet a few days later they were saddened by the fact
that two of these newly baptized fled from the Mission
and escaped to the mountains, there to stir up enmity
and revolt. For nearly a month they moved about,
fanning the fires of hatred against the “long
gowns,” until on the night of November 4 (1775)
nearly eight hundred naked savages, after dusk, stealthily
advanced and surrounded the Mission, where the inmates
slept unguarded, so certain were they of their security.
Part of the force went on to the presidio, where,
in the absence of the commander, the laxity of discipline
was such that no sentinel was on guard.

An hour after midnight the whole of the Mission was
surrounded. The quarters of the Christianized
Indians were invaded, and they were threatened with
instantaneous death if they gave the alarm. The
church was broken into, and all the vestments and
sacred vessels stolen. Then the buildings were
fired. Not until then did the inmates know of
their danger. Imagine their horror, to wake up
and find the building on fire and themselves surrounded
by what, in their dazed condition, seemed countless
hordes of savages, all howling, yelling, brandishing
war-clubs, firing their arrows,—­the scene
made doubly fearful by the red glare of the flames.

Page 43

In the guard-house were four soldiers,—­the
whole of the Mission garrison; in the house the two
priests, Jayme and Fuster, two little boys, and three
men (a blacksmith and two carpenters). Father
Fuster, the two boys, and the blacksmith sought to
reach the guard-house, but the latter was slain on
the way. The Indians broke into the room where
the carpenters were, and one of them was so cruelly
wounded that he died the next day.

Father Jayme, with the shining light of martyrdom
in his eyes, and the fierce joy of fearlessness in
his heart, not only refused to seek shelter, but deliberately
walked towards the howling band, lifting his hands
in blessing with his usual salutation: “Love
God, my children!” Scarcely were the words uttered
when the wild band fell upon him, shrieking and crying,
tearing off his habit, thrusting him rudely along,
hurting him with stones, sticks, and battle-axe, until
at the edge of the creek his now naked body was bruised
until life was extinct, and then the corpse filled
with arrows.

Three soldiers and the carpenter, with Father Fuster
and two boys loading the guns for them, fought off
the invaders from a near-by kitchen, and at dawn the
attacking force gathered up their dead and wounded
and retired to the mountains.

No sooner were they gone than the neophytes came rushing
up to see if any were left alive. Their delight
at finding Father Fuster was immediately changed into
sadness as others brought in the awfully mutilated
and desecrated body of Father Jayme. Not until
then did Father Fuster know that his companion was
dead, and deep was the mourning of his inmost soul
as he performed the last offices for his dear companion.

Strange to say, so careless was the garrison that
not until a messenger reached it from Father Fuster
did they know of the attack. They had placed
no guards, posted no sentinels, and, indifferent in
their foolish scorn of the prowess and courage of
the Indians, had slept calmly, though they themselves
might easily have been surprised, and the whole garrison
murdered while asleep.

In the meantime letters were sent for aid to Rivera
at Monterey, and Anza, the latter known to be approaching
from the Colorado River region; and in suspense until
they arrived, the little garrison and the remaining
priests passed the rest of the year. The two commanders
met at San Gabriel, and together marched to San Diego,
where they arrived January 11, 1776. It was not
long before they quarreled. Anza was for quick,
decisive action; Rivera was for delay; so, when news
arrived from San Gabriel that the food supply was
running short, Anza left in order to carry out his
original orders, which involved the founding of San
Francisco. Not long after his departure Carlos,
the neophyte who had been concerned in the insurrection,
returned to San Diego, and, doubtless acting under
the suggestion of the padres, took refuge in the temporary
church at the presidio.

Page 44

An unseemly squabble now ensued between Rivera and
Padre Lasuen, the former violating the sanctuary of
the church to arrest the Indian. Lasuen, on the
next feast day, refused to say mass until Rivera and
his violating officers had retired.

All this interfered with resumption of work on the
church; so Serra himself went to San Diego, and, finding
the ship “San Antonio” in the harbor,
made an arrangement with Captain Choquet to supply
sailors to do the building under his own direction.
Rivera was then written to for a guard, and he sent
six soldiers. On August 22, 1777, the three padres,
Choquet with his mate and boatswain and twenty sailors,
a company of neophytes, and the six soldiers went
to the old site and began work in earnest, digging
the foundations, making adobes, and collecting stones.
The plan was to build a wall for defense, and then
erect the church and other buildings inside.
For fifteen days all went well. Then an Indian
went to Rivera with a story that hostile Indians were
preparing arrows for a new attack, and this so scared
the gallant officer that he withdrew his six men.
Choquet had to leave with his men, as he dared not
take the responsibility of being away with so many
men without the consent of Rivera; and, to the padre’s
great sorrow, the work had to cease.

In March of 1778 Captain Carrillo was sent to chastise
hostile Indians at Pamo who had sent insolent messages
to Captain Ortega. Carrillo surprised the foe,
killed two, burned others who took refuge in a hut,
while the others surrendered and were publicly flogged.
The four chiefs, Aachel, Aalcuirin, Aaran, and Taguagui,
were captured, taken to San Diego, and there shot,
though the officer had no legal right to condemn even
an Indian to death without the approval of the governor.
Ortega’s sentence reads: “Deeming
it useful to the service of God, the King, and the
public weal, I sentence them to a violent death by
two musket-shots on the 11th at 9 A.M., the troops
to be present at the execution under arms also all
the Christian rancherias subject to the San Diego Mission,
that they may be warned to act righteously.”

Ortega then instructed Padres Lasuen and Figuer to
prepare the condemned. “You will co-operate
for the good of their souls in the understanding that
if they do not accept the salutary waters of baptism
they die on Saturday morning; and if they do—­they
die all the same!” This was the first public
execution in California.

In 1780 the new church, built of adobe, strengthened
and roofed with pine timbers, ninety feet long and
seventeen feet wide and high, was completed.

In 1782 fire destroyed the old presidio church.

In 1783 Lasuen made an interesting report on the condition
of San Diego. At the Mission there were church,
granary, storehouse, hospital, men’s house,
shed for wood and oven, two houses for the padres,
larder, guest-room, and kitchen. These, with
the soldiers’ barracks, filled three sides of
a square of about one hundred and sixty feet, and on
the fourth side was an adobe wall, nearly ten feet
high. There were seven hundred and forty neophytes
at that time under missionary care, though Lasuen
spoke most disparagingly of the location as a Mission
site.

Page 45

In 1824 San Diego registered its largest population,
being then eighteen hundred and twenty-nine.

When Spanish rule ended, and the Mexican empire and
republic sent its first governor, Echeandia, he decided
to make San Diego his home; so for the period of his
governorship, though he doubtless lived at or near
the presidio, the Mission saw more or less of him.
As is shown in the chapter on Secularization, he was
engaged in a thankless task when he sought to change
the Mission system, and there was no love lost between
the governor’s house and the Mission.

In 1833 Governor Figueroa visited San Diego Mission
in person, in order to exhort the neophytes to seize
the advantages of citizenship which the new secularization
regulations were to give to them; but, though they
heard him patiently, and there and at San Luis Rey
one hundred and sixty families were found to be duly
qualified for “freedom,” only ten could
be found to accept it.

On March 29, 1843, Governor Micheltorena issued a
decree which restored San Diego Mission temporalities
to the management of the padre. He explained
in his prelude that the decree was owing to the fact
that the Mission establishments had been reduced to
the mere space occupied by the buildings and orchards,
that the padres had no support but that of charity,
etc. Mofras gives the number of Indians in
1842 as five hundred, but an official report of 1844
gives only one hundred. The Mission retained
the ranches of Santa Isabel and El Cajon until 1844-1845,
and then, doubtless, they were sold or rented in accordance
with the plans of Pio Pico.

To-day nothing but the fachada of the church
remains, and that has recently been braced or it would
have fallen. There are a few portions of walls
also, and a large part of the adobe wall around the
garden remains. The present owner of the orchard,
in digging up some of the old olive trees, has found
a number of interesting relics, stirrups, a gun-barrel,
hollow iron cannon-balls, metates, etc. These
are all preserved and shown as “curios,”
together with beams from the church, and the old olive-mill.

By the side of the ruined church a newer and modern
brick building now stands. It destroys the picturesqueness
of the old site, but it is engaged in a good work.
Father Ubach, the indefatigable parish priest of San
Diego, who died a few years ago, and who was possessed
of the spirit of the old padres, erected this building
for the training of the Indian children of the region.
On one occasion I asked the children if they knew
any of the “songs of the old,” the songs
their Indian grandparents used to sing; and to my
delight, they sang two of the old chorals taught their
ancestors in the early Mission days by the padres.

[Illustration: FACHADA OF THE RUINED MISSION
OF SAN DIEGO]

[Illustration: OLD MISSION OF SAN DIEGO AND SISTERS
SCHOOL FOR INDIAN CHILDREN]

[Illustration: MAIN ENTRANCE ARCH AT MISSION
SAN DIEGO.]

Page 46

[Illustration: THE TOWER AT MISSION SAN CARLOS
BORROMEO]

CHAPTER X

SAN CARLOS BORROMEO

A brief account of the founding of San Carlos at Monterey,
June 3, 1770, was given in an earlier chapter.
What joy the discovery of the harbor and founding
of the Mission caused in Mexico and Spain can be understood
when it is remembered that for two centuries this thing
had been desired. In the Mexican city the bells
of the Cathedral rang forth merry peals as on special
festival days, and a solemn mass of thanksgiving was
held, at which all the city officials and dignitaries
were present. A full account of the event was
printed and distributed there and in Spain, so that,
for a time at least, California occupied a large share
of public attention.

The result of the news of the founding of San Carlos
was that all were enthused for further extension of
the Missions. The indefatigable Galvez at once
determined that five new Missions should be founded,
and the Guardian of the Franciscan College was asked
for, and agreed to send, ten more missionaries for
the new establishments, as well as twenty for the
old and new Missions on the peninsula.

At the end of the year 1773 Serra made his report
to Mexico, and then it was found that there were more
converts at San Carlos than at any other Mission.
Three Spanish soldiers had married native women.

A little later, as the mud roofs were not successful
in keeping out the winter rains, a new church was
built, partly of rough and partly of worked lumber,
and roofed with tules. The lumber used was the
pine and cypress for which the region is still noted.

There was little agriculture, only five fanegas of
wheat being harvested in 1772. Each Mission received
eighteen head of horned cattle at its founding, and
San Carlos reported a healthy increase.

In 1772 Serra left for Mexico, to lay matters from
the missionary standpoint before the new viceroy,
Bucareli. He arrived in the city of Mexico in
February, 1773. With resistless energy and eloquence
he pleaded for the preservation of the shipyard of
San Blas, the removal of Fages, the correction of
certain abuses that had arisen as the result of Fages’s
actions, and for further funds, soldiers, etc.,
to prosecute the work of founding more Missions.
In all the main points his mission was successful.
Captain Rivera y Moncada, with whose march from the
peninsula we are already familiar, was appointed governor;
and at the same time that he received his instructions,
August 17, 1773, Captain Juan Bautista de Anza was
authorized to attempt the overland journey from Sonora
to Monterey.

As we have already seen, this trip was successful
and led to the second, in which the colonists and
soldiers for the new Mission of San Francisco were
brought.

In 1776 Serra’s heart was joyed with the thought
that he was to wear a martyr’s crown, for there
was a rumor of an Indian uprising at San Carlos; but
the presence of troops sent over from Monterey seemed
to end the trouble.

Page 47

In 1779 a maritime event of importance occurred.
The padres at San Carlos and the soldiers at Monterey
saw a galleon come into the bay, which proved to be
the “San Jose,” from Manila. It should
have remained awhile, but contrary winds arose, and
it sailed away for San Lucas. But the king later
issued orders that all Manila galleons must call at
Monterey, under a penalty of four thousand dollars,
unless prevented by stress of weather.

In 1784 Serra died and was buried at San Carlos.

For a short time after Serra’s death, the duties
of padre presidente fell upon Palou; but in February,
1785, the college of San Fernando elected Lasuen to
the office, and thereafter he resided mainly at San
Carlos.

September 14, 1786, the eminent French navigator,
Jean Francois Galaup de la Perouse, with two vessels,
appeared at Monterey, and the Frenchman in the account
of his trip gives us a vivid picture of his reception
at the Mission of San Carlos.

A few years later Vancouver, the English navigator,
also visited San Francisco, Santa Clara, and San Carlos.
He was hospitably entertained by Lasuen, but when
he came again, he was not received so warmly, doubtless
owing to the fearfulness of the Spaniards as to England’s
intentions.

When Pico issued his decrees in 1845, San Carlos was
regarded as a pueblo, or abandoned Mission, Padre
Real residing at Monterey and holding services only
occasionally. The little property that remained
was to be sold at auction for the payment of debts
and the support of worship, but there is no record
of property, debts, or sale. The glory of San
Carlos was departed.

For many years no one cared for the building, and
it was left entirely to the mercy of the vandal and
relic hunter. In 1852 the tile roof fell in,
and all the tiles, save about a thousand, were either
then broken, or afterwards stolen. The rains
and storms beating in soon brought enough sand to
form a lodgment for seeds, and ere long a dense growth
of grass and weeds covered the dust of California’s
great apostle.

In Glimpses of California by H.H., Mr. Sandham,
the artist, has a picture which well illustrates the
original spring of the roof and curve of the walls.
There were three buttresses, from which sprang
the roof arches. The curves of the walls were
made by increasing the thickness at the top, as can
be seen from the window spaces on each side, which
still remain in their original condition. The
building is about one hundred and fifty feet long
by thirty feet wide.

In 1868 Rev. Angelo D. Cassanova became the pastor
of the parish church at Monterey, and though Serra’s
home Mission was then a complete mass of ruins, he
determined upon its preservation, at least from further
demolition. The first step was to clear away the
debris that had accumulated since its abandonment,
and then to locate the graves of the missionaries.
On July 3, 1882, after due notice in the San Francisco
papers, over four hundred people assembled at San Carlos,
the stone slab was removed, and the bodies duly identified.

Page 48

The discovery of the bodies of Serra, Crespi, Lopez,
and Lasuen aroused some sentiment and interest in
Father Cassanova’s plan of restoration; and
sufficient aid came to enable him properly to restore
and roof the building. On August 28, 1884, the
rededication took place, and the building was left
as it is found to-day.

The old pulpit still remains. It is reached by
steps from the sacristy through a doorway in the main
side wall. It is a small and unpretentious structure
of wood, with wooden sounding-board above. It
rests upon a solid stone pedestal, cut into appropriate
shaft and mouldings. The door is of solid oak,
substantially built.

In the sacristy is a double lavatory of solid sandstone,
hewn and arranged for flowing water. It consists
of two basins, one above the other, the latter one
well recessed. The lower basin is structurally
curved in front, and the whole piece is of good and
artistic workmanship.

In the neighborhood of San Carlos there are enough
residents to make up a small congregation, and it
is the desire of Father Mestris, the present priest
at Monterey, to establish a parish there, have a resident
minister, and thus restore the old Mission to its original
purpose.

CHAPTER XI

THE PRESIDIO CHURCH AT MONTEREY

Before leaving San Carlos it will be well to explain
the facts in regard to the Mission church at Monterey.
Many errors have been perpetuated about this church.
There is little doubt but that originally the Mission
was established here, and the first church built on
this site. But as I have elsewhere related, Padre
Serra found it unwise to have the Indians and the
soldiers too near together.

In the establishment of the Missions, the presidios
were founded to be a means of protection to the padres
in their work of civilizing and Christianizing the
natives. These presidios were at San Diego, Monterey,
San Francisco, and Santa Barbara. Each was supposed
to have its own church or chapel, and the original
intention was that each should likewise have its own
resident priest. For purposes of economy, however,
this was not done, and the Mission padres were called
upon for this service, though it was often a source
of disagreement between the military and the missionaries.
While the Monterey church that occupied the site of
the present structure may, in the first instance, have
been used by Serra for the Mission, it was later used
as the church for the soldiers, and thus became the
presidio chapel. I have been unable to learn
when it was built but about fifty years ago Governor
Pacheco donated the funds for its enlargement.
The original building was extended back a number of
feet, and an addition made, which makes the church
of cruciform shape, the original building being the
long arm of the cross. The walls are built of
sandstone rudely quarried at the rear of the church.
It is now the parish church of Monterey.

Page 49

Here are a large number of interesting relics and
memorials of Serra and the early Mission days.
The chief of these is a reliquary case, made by an
Indian at San Carlos to hold certain valuable relics
which Serra highly prized. Some of these are
bones from the Catacombs, and an Agnus Dei of wax.
Serra himself wrote the list of contents on a slip
of paper, which is still intact on the back of the
case. This reliquary used to be carried in procession
by Serra on each fourth of November, and is now used
by Father Mestris in like ceremonials.

In the altar space or sanctuary are five chairs, undoubtedly
brought to California by one of the Philippine galleons
from one of those islands, or from China. The
bodies are of teak, ebony, or ironwood, with seats
of marble, and with a disk of marble in the back.

In the sacristy is the safe in which Serra used to
keep the sacred vessels, as well as the important
papers connected with his office. It is an interesting
object, sheeted with iron, wrapped around with iron
bands and covered all over with bosses. It is
about three feet wide and four feet high. In
the drawers close by are several of the copes, stoles,
maniples, and other vestments which were once used
by Serra at the old Mission.

CHAPTER XII

SAN ANTONIO DE PADUA

The third Mission of the series was founded in honor
of San Antonio de Padua, July 14, 1771, by Serra,
accompanied by Padres Pieras and Sitjar. One
solitary Indian heard the dedicatory mass, but Serra’s
enthusiasm knew no bounds. He was assured that
this “first fruit of the wilderness” would
go forth and bring many of his companions to the priests.
Immediately after the mass he hastened to the Indian,
lavished much attention on him, and gave him gifts.
That same day many other Indians came and clearly
indicated a desire to stay with such pleasant company.
They brought pine-nuts and acorns, and the padres gave
them in exchange strings of glass beads of various
colors.

At once buildings were begun, in which work the Indians
engaged with energy, and soon church and dwellings,
surrounded by a palisade, were completed. From
the first the Indians manifested confidence in the
padres, and the fifteen days that Padre Serra remained
were days of intense joy and gladness at seeing the
readiness of natives to associate with him and his
brother priests. Without delay they began to learn
the language of the Indians, and when they had made
sufficient progress they devoted much time to catechising
them. In two years 158 natives were baptized
and enrolled, and instead of relying upon the missionaries
for food, they brought in large quantities of acorns,
pine-nuts, squirrels, and rabbits. The Mission
being located in the heart of the mountains, where
pine and oak trees grew luxuriantly, the pine-nut and
acorn were abundant. Before the end of 1773 the
church and dwellings were all built, of adobe, and
three soldiers, who had married native women, were
living in separate houses.

Page 50

In August of 1774 occurred the first trouble.
The gentile Indians, angered at the progress of the
Mission and the gathering in of so many of their people,
attacked the Mission and wounded an Indian about to
be baptized. When the news reached Rivera at
Monterey, he sent a squad of soldiers, who captured
the culprits, gave them a flogging, and imprisoned
them. Later they were flogged again, and, after
a few days in the stocks, they were released.

In 1779 an alcalde and regidore were chosen from the
natives to assist in the administration of justice.
In 1800 the report shows that the neophyte population
was 1118, with 767 baptisms and 656 deaths. The
cattle and horses had decreased from 2232 of the last
report to 2217, but small stock had slightly increased.
In 1787 the church was regarded as the best in California,
though it was much improved later, for in 1797 it
is stated that it was of adobes with a tiled roof.
In 1793 the large adobe block, eighty varas long and
one vara wide, was constructed for friars’ houses,
church and storehouse, and it was doubtless this church
that was tiled four years later.

In 1805 it gained its highest population, there being
1296 Indians under its control. The lands of
the Mission were found to be barren, necessitating
frequent changes in cultivated fields and stock ranges.

In 1808 the venerable Buenaventura Sitjar, one of
the founders of the Mission, and who had toiled there
continuously for thirty-seven years, passed to his
reward, and was buried in sight of the hills he had
loved so long. The following year, or in 1810,
work was begun on a newer and larger church of adobes,
and this is doubtless the building whose ruins now
remain. Though we have no record of its dedication,
there is no question but that it took place prior
to 1820, and in 1830 references are made to its arched
corridors, etc., built of brick. Robinson,
who visited it in this year, says the whole Mission
is built of brick, but in this he is in error.
The fachada is of brick, but the main part of
the building is of adobe. Robinson speaks thus
of the Mission and its friar: “Padre Pedro
Cabot, the present missionary director, I found to
be a fine, noble-looking man, whose manner and whole
deportment would have led one to suppose he had been
bred in the courts of Europe, rather than in the cloister.
Everything was in the most perfect order: the
Indians cleanly and well dressed, the apartments tidy,
the workshops, granaries, and storehouses comfortable
and in good keeping.”

[Illustration: RUINS Of MISSION SAN ANTONIO DE
PADUA.]

[Illustration: DUTTON HOTEL, JOLON. On the
old stage route between San Francisco and Los Angeles,
near Mission San Antonio de Padua.]

[Illustration: RUINED CORRIDORS AT SAN ANTONIO
DE PADUA.]

In 1834 Cabot retired to give place to Padre Jesus
Maria Vasquez del Mercado, one of the newly arrived
Franciscans from Zacatecas. In this year the
neophyte population had dwindled to 567, and five years
later Visitador Hartwell found only 270 living at
the Mission and its adjoining ranches. It is
possible, however, that there were fully as many more
living at a distance of whom he gained no knowledge,
as the official report for 1840 gives 500 neophytes.

Page 51

Manuel Crespo was the comisionado for secularization
in 1835, and he and Padre Mercado had no happy times
together. Mercado made it so unpleasant that
six other administrators were appointed in order to
please him, but it was a vain attempt. As a consequence,
the Indians felt the disturbances and discord, and
became discontented and unmanageable.

In 1843, according to Governor Micheltorena’s
order of March 29, the temporal control of the Mission
was restored to the padre. But, though the order
was a kindly one, and relieved the padre from the interference
of officious, meddling, inefficient, and dishonest
“administrators,” it was too late to effect
any real service.

As far as I can learn, Pico’s plan did not affect
San Antonio, and it was not one of those sold by him
in 1845-1846. In 1848 Padre Doroteo Ambris was
in charge as curate. For thirty years he remained
here, true to his calling, an entirely different kind
of man from the quarrelsome, arrogant, drinking, and
gambling Mercado. He finally died at San Antonio,
and was buried in the Mission he guarded so well.

In 1904 the California Historic Landmarks League (Inc.)
undertook the preservation of San Antonio, but little
has yet been accomplished. Much more should speedily
be done, if the walls are to be kept from falling.

CHAPTER XIII

SAN GABRIEL, ARCANGEL

We have already seen that San Gabriel, the fourth
Mission, was founded September 8, 1771. The natives
gave cheerful assistance in bringing timber, erecting
the wooden buildings, covering them with tules, and
constructing the stockade enclosure which surrounded
them. They also brought offerings of acorns and
pine-nuts. In a few days so many of them crowded
into camp that Padre Somero went to San Diego for an
addition to the guard, and returned with two extra
men. It was not long before the soldiers got
into trouble, owing to their treatment of the Indian
women, and an Indian attack, as before related, took
place. A few days later, Fages appeared on the
scene from San Diego with sixteen soldiers and two
missionaries, who were destined as guard and priests
for the new Mission of San Buenaventura. But
the difficulty with the Indians led Fages to postpone
the founding of the new Mission. The offending
soldier was hurried off to Monterey to get him out
of the way of further trouble. The padres did
their best to correct the evil impression the soldiers
had created, and, strange to say, the first child brought
for baptism was the son of the chief who had been
killed in the dispute with the soldiers.

But the San Gabriel soldiers were not to be controlled.
They were insolent to the aged priests, who were in
ill-health; they abused the Indians so far as to pursue
them to their rancherias “for the fun of the
thing;” and there they had additional “sport”
by lassoing the women and killing such men as interfered
with their lusts. No wonder Serra’s heart
was heavy when he heard the news, and that he attributed
the small number of baptisms—­only seventy-three
in two years—­to the wickedness of the men
who should have aided instead of hindering the work.

Page 52

In his first report to Mexico, Serra tells of the
Indian population around San Gabriel. He says
it is larger than at any other Mission, though, unfortunately,
of several different tribes who are at war with one
another; and the tribes nearest to the sea will not
allow others to fish, so that they are often in great
want of food. Of the prospects for agriculture
he is most enthusiastic. The location is a well-watered
plain, with plenty of water and natural facilities
for irrigation; and though the first year’s
crop was drowned out, the second produced one hundred
and thirty fanegas of maize and seven fanegas of beans.
The buildings erected are of the same general character
as those already described at San Carlos, though somewhat
smaller.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF MISSION SAN ANTONIO
DE PADUA.]

[Illustration: REAR OF CHURCH, MISSION SAN ANTONIO
DE PADUA.]

[Illustration: RUINS OF THE ARCHES, MISSION SAN
ANTONIO DE PADUA.]

[Illustration: MISSION SAN GABRIEL ARCANGEL.]

When Captain Anza reached California from Sonora,
by way of the Colorado, on his first trip in 1774,
accompanied by Padre Garces, he stayed for awhile
to recuperate at San Gabriel; and when he came the
second time, with the colonists for the new presidio
of San Francisco, San Gabriel was their first real
stopping-place after that long, weary, and arduous
journey across the sandy deserts of Arizona and California.
Here Anza met Rivera, who had arrived the day before
from Monterey. It will be remembered that just
at that time the news came of the Indian uprising
at San Diego; so, leaving his main force and the immigrants
to recuperate, he and seventeen of his soldiers, with
Padre Font, started with Rivera for the south.
This was in January, 1776. He and Rivera did
not agree as to the best methods to be followed in
dealing with the troublesome Indians; so, when advices
reached him from San Gabriel that provisions were
giving out, he decided to allow Rivera to follow his
own plans, but that he would wait no longer.
When he arrived at San Gabriel, February 12, he found
that three of his muleteers, a servant, and a soldier
belonging to the Mission had deserted, taking with
them twenty-five horses and a quantity of Mission
property. His ensign, Moraga, was sent after
the deserters; but, as he did not return as soon as
was expected, Anza started with his band of colonists
for the future San Francisco, where they duly arrived,
as is recorded in the San Francisco chapter.

In 1777-1778 the Indians were exceedingly troublesome,
and on one occasion came in large force, armed, to
avenge some outrage the soldiers had perpetrated.
The padres met them with a shining image of Our Lady,
when, immediately, they were subdued, and knelt weeping
at the feet of the priests.

In October, 1785, trouble was caused by a woman tempting
(so they said) the neophytes and gentiles to attack
the Mission and kill the padres. The plot was
discovered, and the corporal in command captured some
twenty of the leaders and quelled the uprising without
bloodshed. Four of the ringleaders were imprisoned,
the others whipped with fifteen or twenty lashes each,
and released. The woman was sentenced to perpetual
exile, and possibly shipped off to one of the peninsula
Missions.

Page 53

In 1810 the settlers at Los Angeles complained to
the governor that the San Gabriel padres had dammed
up the river at Cahuenga, thus cutting off their water
supply; and they also stated that the padres refused
to attend to the spiritual wants of their sick.
The padres offered to remove the dam if the settlers
were injured thereby, and also claimed that they were
always glad to attend to the sick when their own pressing
duties allowed.

On January 14, 1811, Padre Francisco Dumetz, one of
Serra’s original compadres, died at San Gabriel.
At this time, and since 1806, Padre Jose Maria Zalvidea,
that strict martinet of padres, was in charge, and
he brought the Mission up to its highest state of efficiency.
He it was who began the erection of the stone church
that now remains, and the whole precinct, during his
rule, rang with the busy hammer, clatter, chatter,
and movement of a large number of active workers.

It was doubtless owing to the earthquake of December
8, 1812, which occurred at sunrise, that a new church
was built. The main altar was overthrown, several
of the figures broken, the steeple toppled over and
crashed to the ground, and the sacristy walls were
badly cracked. The padres’ house as well
as all the other buildings suffered.

One of the adjuncts to San Gabriel was El Molino
Viejo,—­the old mill. Indeed there
were two old mills, the first one, however,
built in Padre Zalvidea’s time, in 1810 to 1812,
being the one that now remains. It is about two
miles from the Mission. It had to be abandoned
on account of faulty location. Being built on
the hillside, its west main wall was the wall of the
deep funnel-shaped cisterns which furnished the water
head. This made the interior damp. Then,
too, the chamber in which the water-well revolved
was so low that the powerful head of water striking
the horizontal wheel splashed all over the walls and
worked up through the shaft holes to the mill stones
and thus wet the flour. This necessitated the
constant presence of Indian women to carry away the
meal to dry storerooms at the Mission where it was
bolted by a hand process of their own devising.
On this account the mill was abandoned, and for several
years the whole of the meal for the Mission was ground
on the old-style metates.

The region adjacent to the mill was once largely inhabited
by Indians, for the foreman of the mill ranch declares
that he has hauled from the adjacent bluff as many
stone pestles and mortars, metates and grinders as
would load a four-horse wagon.

It should not be forgotten that originally the mill
was roofed with red tiles made by the Indians at the
Mission; but these have entirely disappeared.

It was the habit of Padre Zalvidea to send certain
of his most trusted neophytes over to the islands
of San Clemente and Catalina with a “bolt”
or two of woven serge, made at the Mission San Gabriel,
to exchange with the island Indians for their soapstone
cooking vessels,—­mortars, etc.
These traders embarked from a point where Redondo now
is, and started always at midnight.

Page 54

In 1819 the Indians of the Guachama rancho, called
San Bernardino, petitioned for the introduction of
agriculture and stock raising, and this was practically
the beginning of that asistencia, as will be
recorded in the chapter on the various chapels.
A chapel was also much needed at Puente, where Zalvidea
had six hundred Indians at work in 1816.

In 1822 San Gabriel was fearfully alarmed at the rumor
that one hundred and fifty Indians were bearing down
upon that Mission from the Colorado River region.
It transpired that it was an Opata with despatches,
and that the company had no hostile intent. But
Captain Portilla met them and sent them back, not
a little disconcerted by their inhospitable reception.

Of the wild, political chaos that occurred in California
after Mexico became independent of Spain, San Gabriel
felt occasional waves. When the people of San
Diego and the southern part of the State rebelled against
Governor Victoria, and the latter confident chief came
to arrange matters, a battle took place near Los Angeles,
in which he was severely wounded. His friends
bore him to San Gabriel, and, though he had entirely
defeated his foes, so cleverly did some one work upon
his fears that he made a formal surrender, December
6, 1831. On the ninth the leader of the rebels,
the former Governor Echeandia, had a conference with
him at San Gabriel, where he pledged himself to return
to Mexico without giving further trouble; and on the
twentieth he left, stopping for awhile at San Luis
Rey with Padre Peyri. It was at this time the
venerable and worthy Peyri decided to leave California,
and he therefore accompanied the deposed governor
to San Diego, from which port they sailed January
17, 1832.

After secularization San Gabriel was one of the Missions
that slaughtered a large number of her cattle for
the hides and tallow. Pio Pico states that he
had the contract at San Gabriel, employing ten vaqueros
and thirty Indians, and that he thus killed over five
thousand head. Robinson says that the rascally
contractors secretly appropriated two hides for every
one they turned over to the Mission.

In 1843, March 29, Micheltorena’s order, restoring
San Gabriel to the padres, was carried out, and in
1844 the official church report states that nothing
is left but its vineyards in a sad condition, and three
hundred neophytes. The final inventory made by
the comisionados under Pio Pico is missing, so that
we do not know at what the Mission was valued; but
June 8, 1846, he sold the whole property to Reid and
Workman in payment for past services to the government.
When attacked for his participation in what evidently
seemed the fraudulent transfer of the Mission, Pico
replies that the sale “did not go through.”
The United States officers, in August of the same
year, dispossessed the “purchasers,” and
the courts finally decreed the sale invalid.

There are a few portions of the old cactus hedge still
remaining, planted by Padre Zalvidea. Several
hundreds of acres of vineyard and garden were thus
enclosed for purposes of protection from Indians and
roaming bands of horses and cattle. The fruit
of the prickly pear was a prized article of diet by
the Indians, so that the hedge was of benefit in two
ways,—­protection and food.

Page 55

On the altar are several of the old statues, and there
are some quaint pictures upon the walls.

In the baptistry is a font of hammered copper, probably
made either at San Gabriel or San Fernando. There
are several other interesting vessels. At the
rear of the church are the remains of five brick structures,
where the soap-making and tallow-rendering of the Mission
was conducted. Five others were removed a few
years ago to make way for the public road. Undoubtedly
there were other buildings for the women and male
neophytes as well as the workshops.

The San Gabriel belfry is well known in picture, song,
and story. Yet the fanciful legends about the
casting of the bells give way to stern fact when they
are examined. Upon the first bell is the inscription:
“Ave Maria Santisima. S. Francisco.
De Paula Rvelas, me fecit.” The second:
“Cast by G.H. Holbrook, Medway, Mass., 1828.”
The third: “Ave Maria, Sn Jvan Nepomvseno,
Rvelas me fecit, A.D., ’95.” The fourth:
“Fecit Benitvs a Regibvs, Ano D. 1830, Sn.
Frano.”

In the year 1886 a number of needed repairs were made;
the windows were enlarged, and a new ceiling put in,
the latter a most incongruous piece of work.

CHAPTER XIV

SAN LUIS OBISPO DE TOLOSA

Founded, as we have seen, by Serra himself, September
I, 1772, by the end of 1773 the Mission of San Luis
Obispo could report only twelve converts. Serra
left the day after the founding, leaving Padre Cavalier
in charge, with two Indians from Lower California,
four soldiers and their corporal. Their only
provisions were a few hundred pounds of flour and
wheat, and a barrel of brown sugar. But the Indians
were kind, in remembrance of Fages’s goodness
in shooting the bears, and brought them venison and
seeds frequently, so they “managed to subsist”
until provisions came.

Padre Cavalier built a neat chapel of logs and apartments
for the missionaries, and the soldiers soon erected
their own barracks. While the Indians were friendly,
they did not seem to be particularly attracted to
the Mission, as they had more and better food than
the padre, and the only thing he had that they particularly
desired was cloth. There was no rancheria in
the vicinity, but they were much interested in the
growth of the corn and beans sown by the padre, and
which, being on good and well-watered land, yielded
abundantly.

Page 56

In 1776 certain gentiles, who were hostile to some
Indians that were sheltered by the padres, attacked
the Mission by discharging burning arrows upon the
tule roof of the buildings, and everything was destroyed,
save the church and the granary. Rivera came at
once, captured two of the ringleaders, and sent them
for punishment to the Monterey presidio. The
success of the gentiles led them to repeat their attacks
by setting fire to the Mission twice during the next
ten years, and it was these calamities that led one
of the San Luis padres to attempt the making of roof
tiles. Being successful, it was not long before
all the Missions were so roofed.

In 1794 certain of the neophytes of San Luis and La
Purisima conspired with some gentiles to incite the
Indians at San Luis to revolt, but the arrest and
deportation of fifteen or twenty of the ringleaders
to Monterey, to hard labor at the presidio, put a
stop to the revolt.

Padres Lasuen and Tapis both served here as missionaries,
and in 1798 Luis Antonio Martinez, one of the best
known of the padres, began his long term of service
at San Luis. In 1794 the Mission reached its
highest population of 946 souls. It had 6500 head
of cattle and horses, 6150 sheep. In 1798 it
raised 4100 bushels of wheat, and in this same year
a water-power mill was erected and set in motion.
San Luis was also favored by the presence of a smith,
a miller and a carpenter of the artisan instructors,
sent by the king in 1794. Looms were erected,
and cotton brought up from San Blas was woven.
A new church of adobes, with a tile roof, was completed
in 1793, and that same year a portico was added to
its front.

In 1830 Padre Martinez was banished to Madrid, and
at this time the buildings at San Luis were already
falling into decay, as the padre, with far-seeing
eye, was assured that the politicians had nothing but
evil in store for them. Consequently, he did not
keep up things as he otherwise would have done.
He was an outspoken, frank, fearless man, and this
undoubtedly led to his being chosen as the example
necessary to restrain the other padres from too great
freedom of speech and manner.

In 1834 San Luis had 264 neophytes, though after secularization
the number was gradually reduced until, in 1840, there
were but 170 left. The order of secularization
was put into effect in 1835 by Manuel Jimeno Casarin.
The inventory of the property in 1836 showed $70,000.
In 1839 it was $60,000. In 1840 all the horses
were stolen by “New Mexican traders,”
one report alone telling of the driving away of 1200
head. The officers at Los Angeles went in pursuit
of the thieves and one party reported that it came
in full sight of the foe retiring deliberately with
the stolen animals, but, as there were as many Americans
as Indians in the band, they deemed it imprudent to
risk a conflict.

In December of 1846, when Fremont was marching south
to co-operate with Stockton against the Southern Californians,
San Luis was thought to harbor an armed force of hostiles.
Accordingly Fremont surrounded it one dark, rainy
night, and took it by sudden assault. The fears
were unfounded, for only women, children, and non-combatants
were found.

Page 57

The Book of Confirmations at San Luis has its introductory
pages written by Serra. There is also a “Nota”
opposite page three, and a full-page note in the back
in his clear, vigorous and distinctive hand.

There are three bells at San Luis Obispo. The
largest is to the right, the smallest in the center.
On the largest bell is the following inscription:
“Me fecit ano di 1818 Manvel Vargas, Lima.
Mision de Sn Luis Obispo De La Nueba California.”
This latter is a circumferential panel about midway
between the top and bottom of the bell. On the
middle bell we read the same inscription, while there
is none on the third. This latter was cast in
San Francisco, from two old bells which were broken.

From a painting the old San Luis Obispo church is
seen to have been raised up on a stone and cement
foundation. The corridor was without the arches
that are elsewhere one of the distinctive features,
but plain round columns, with a square base and topped
with a plain square moulding, gave support to the
roof beams, on which the usual red-tiled roof was
placed.

The fachada of the church retreats some fifteen
or twenty feet from the front line of the corridors.
The monastery has been “restored,” even
as has the church, out of all resemblance to its own
honest original self. The adobe walls are covered
with painted wood, and the tiles have given way to
shingles, just like any other modern and commonplace
house. The building faces the southeast.
The altar end is at the northwest. To the southwest
are the remains of a building of boulders, brick, and
cement, exactly of the same style as the asistencia
building of Santa Margarita. It seems as if it
might have been built by the same hands. Possibly
in the earlier days Santa Margarita was a vista
of San Luis, rather than of San Miguel, though it
is generally believed that it was under the jurisdiction
of the latter.

CHAPTER XV

SAN FRANCISCO DE ASIS

The story of Bucareli’s determination to found
a presidio at San Francisco, and Anza’s march
with the colonists for it from Sonora, has already
been recounted. When Serra and Galvez were making
their original plans for the establishment of the
three first Missions of Alta California, Serra expressed
his disappointment that St. Francis was neglected
by asking: “And for our founder St. Francis
there is no Mission?” To which Galvez replied:
“If St. Francis desires a Mission, let him show
us his harbor and he shall have one.” It
therefore seemed providential that when Portola, Pages,
and Crespi, in 1769, saw the Bay of Monterey they
did not recognize it, and were thus led on further
north, where the great Bay of San Francisco was soon
afterwards discovered and reasonably well surveyed.

Page 58

Palou eventually established the Mission October 9,
1776. None of the Indians were present to witness
the ceremony, as they had fled, the preceding month,
from the attacks of certain of their enemies.
When they returned in December they brought trouble
with them. They stole all in their reach; one
party discharged arrows at the corporal of the guard;
another insulted a soldier’s wife; and an attempt
was made to kill the San Carlos neophyte who had been
brought here. The officers shut up one of these
hostiles, whereat a party of his comrades rushed to
the rescue, fired their arrows at the Mission, and
were only driven back when the soldiers arrived and
fired their muskets in the air. Next day the
sergeant went out to make arrests and another struggle
ensued, in which one was killed and one wounded.
All now sued for peace, which, with sundry floggings,
was granted. For three months they now kept away
from the Mission.

In 1777 they began to return, and on October 4, Padre
Serra, on his first visit, was able to say mass in
the presence of seventeen adult native converts.
Then, passing over to the presidio on October 10, as
he stood gazing on the waters flowing out to the setting
sun through the purple walls of the Golden Gate, he
exclaimed with a heart too full of thanksgiving to
be longer restrained: “Thanks be to God
that now our father St. Francis with the Holy Cross
of the Procession of Missions, has reached the last
limit of the Californian continent. To go farther
he must have boats.”

In 1782, April 25, the corner-stone of a new church
was laid at San Francisco. Three padres were
present, together with the Mission guard and a body
of troops from the presidio. In the Mission records
it says: “There was enclosed in the cavity
of said corner-stone the image of our Holy Father
St. Francis, some relics in the form of bones of St.
Pius and other holy martyrs, five medals of various
saints, and a goodly portion of silver coin.”

In 1785 Governor Pages complained to the viceroy,
among other things, that the presidio of San Francisco
had been deprived of mass for three years, notwithstanding
the obligation of the friars to serve as chaplains.
Palou replied that the padres were under no obligation
to serve gratuitously, and that they were always ready
to attend the soldiers when their other duties allowed.

In November, 1787, Captain Soler, who for a brief
time acted as temporary governor and inspector, suggested
that the presidio of San Francisco be abandoned and
its company transferred to Santa Barbara. Later,
as I have shown elsewhere, a proposition was again
made for the abandonment of San Francisco; so it is
apparent that Fate herself was protecting it for its
future great and wonderful history.

In 1790 San Francisco reported 551 baptisms and 205
deaths, with a present neophyte population of 438.
Large stock had increased to 2000 head and small to
1700.

Page 59

Three years later, on November 14, the celebrated
English navigator, George Vancouver, in his vessel
“Discovery,” sailed into San Francisco
Bay. His arrival caused quite a flutter of excitement
both at the presidio and Mission, where he was kindly
entertained. The governor was afraid of this
elaborate hospitality to the hated and feared English,
and issued orders to the commandant providing for a
more frigid reception in the future, so, on Vancouver’s
second visit, he did not find matters so agreeable,
and grumbled accordingly.

Tiles were made and put on the church roofs in 1795;
more houses were built for the neophytes, and all
roofed with tiles. Half a league of ditch was
also dug around the potrero (pasture ground) and fields.

In 1806 San Francisco was enlivened by the presence
of the Russian chamberlain, Rezanof, who had been
on a special voyage around the world, and was driven
by scurvy and want of provisions to the California
settlements. He was accompanied by Dr. G.H. von
Langsdorff. Langsdorff’s account of the
visit and reception at several points in California
is interesting. He gives a full description of
the Indians and their method of life at the Mission;
commends the zeal and self-sacrifice of the padres;
speaks of the ingenuity shown by the women in making
baskets; the system of allowing the cattle and horses
to run wild, etc. Visiting the Mission of
San Jose by boat, he and his companions had quite an
adventurous time getting back, owing to the contrary
winds.

Rezanof’s visit and its consequences have been
made the subject of much and romantic writing.
Gertrude Atherton’s novel, Rezanof, is
devoted to this episode in his life. The burden
of the story is possibly true, viz., that the
Russians in their settlements to the north were suffering
for want of the food that California was producing
in abundance. Yet, owing to the absurd Spanish
laws governing California, she was forbidden to sell
to or trade with any foreign peoples or powers.
Rezanof, who was well acquainted with this prohibitory
law, determined upon trying to overcome it for the
immediate relief of his suffering compatriots.
He was fairly well received when he reached San Francisco,
but he could accomplish nothing in the way of trading
or the sale of the needed provisions.

Now began a campaign of strategic waiting. To
complicate (or simplify) the situation, in the bailes
and festas given to the distinguished Russian,
Rezanof danced and chatted with Concha Argueello, the
daughter of the stern old commandant of the post.

Did they fall in love with each other, or did they
not? Some writers say one thing and some another.
Anyhow, the girl thought she had received the honest
love of a noble man and responded with ardor and devotion.
So sure was she of his affection that she finally
prevailed upon her father (so we are told) to sell
to Rezanof the provisions for which he had come.
The vessel, accordingly, was well and satisfactorily
laden and Rezanof sailed away. Being a Russian
subject, he was not allowed to marry the daughter
of a foreigner without the consent of his sovereign,
and he was to hurry to Moscow and gain permission to
return and wed the lady of his choice.

Page 60

He never returned. Hence the accusation that
he acted in bad faith to her and her father.
This charge seems to be unfounded, for it is known
that he left his vessel and started overland to reach
Moscow earlier than he could have done by ship, that
he was taken seriously ill on the trip and died.

But Concha did not know of this. No one informed
her of the death of her lover, and her weary waiting
for his return is what has given the touch of keenest
pathos to the romantic story. Bret Harte, in his
inimitable style, has put into exquisite verse, the
story of the waiting of this true-hearted Spanish
maiden[4]:

[4] From Poems by Bret Harte. By permission of
the publishers, The Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston,
Mass.

“He with grave
provincial magnates long had held serene debate
On the Treaty of Alliance
and the high affairs of state;

He from grave provincial
magnates oft had turned to talk apart
With the Comandante’s
daughter on the questions of the heart,

Until points of gravest
import yielded slowly one by one,
And by Love was consummated
what Diplomacy begun;

Till beside the deep
embrasures, where the brazen cannon are,
He received the twofold
contract for approval of the Czar;

Till beside the brazen
cannon the betrothed bade adieu,
And from sallyport and
gateway north the Russian eagles flew.

Long beside the deep
embrasures, where the brazen cannon are,
Did they wait the promised
bridegroom and the answer of the Czar.

Day by day ...

Week by week ...

So each year the seasons shifted,—­wet
and warm and drear and dry;
Half a year of clouds and flowers, half a year
of dust and sky.

Still it brought no ship nor message,—­brought
no tidings, ill or
meet,
For the statesmanlike Commander, for the daughter
fair and sweet.

Yet she heard the varying message,
voiceless to all ears beside:
‘He will come,’ the flowers whispered;
‘Come no more,’ the dry hills
sighed.

Then the grim Commander, pacing
where the brazen cannon are,
Comforted the maid with proverbs, wisdom gathered
from afar;

* * * *
*

So with proverbs and caresses,
half in faith and half in doubt,
Every day some hope was kindled, flickered, faded,
and went out.

* * * *
*

Forty years on wall
and bastion swept the hollow idle breeze
Since the Russian eagle
fluttered from the California seas;

Forty years on wall
and bastion wrought its slow but sure decay,
And St. George’s
cross was lifted in the port of Monterey;

And the Citadel was lighted, and
the hall was gaily drest,
All to honor Sir George Simpson, famous traveler
and guest.

* * * *
*

Page 61

The formal speeches ended, and
amidst the laugh and wine,
Some one spoke of Concha’s lover,—­heedless
of the warning sign.

Quickly then cried Sir George
Simpson: ’Speak no ill
of him, I pray!
He is dead. He died, poor fellow, forty
years ago this
day.—­

’Died while speeding home
to Russia, falling from a
fractious horse.
Left a sweetheart, too, they tell me. Married,
I
suppose, of course!

‘Lives she yet?’ A
deathlike silence fell on banquet,
guests, and hall,
And a trembling figure rising fixed the awestruck
gaze
of all.

‘Lives she yet?’ Sir
George repeated. All were hushed
as Concha drew
Closer yet her nun’s attire. ’Senyor,
pardon, she died,
too!’”

In 1810 Moraga, the ensign at the presidio, was sent
with seventeen men to punish the gentiles of the region
of the Carquines Strait, who for several years had
been harassing the neophytes at San Francisco, and
sixteen of whom they had killed. Moraga had a
hard fight against a hundred and twenty of them, and
captured eighteen, whom he soon released, “as
they were all sure to die of their wounds.”
The survivors retreated to their huts and made a desperate
resistance, and were so determined not to be captured
that, when one hut was set on fire, its inmates preferred
to perish in the flames rather than to surrender.
A full report of this affair was sent to the King
of Spain and as a result he promoted Moraga and other
officers, and increased the pay of some of the soldiers.
He also tendered the thanks of the nation to all the
participants.

Runaway neophytes gave considerable trouble for several
years, and in 1819 a force was sent from San Francisco
to punish these recalcitrants and their allies.
A sharp fight took place near the site of the present
Stockton, in which 27 Indians were killed, 20 wounded,
and 16 captured, with 49 horses.

The Mission report for 1821-1830 shows a decrease
in neophyte population from 1252 to 219, though this
was largely caused by the sending of neophytes to
the newly founded Missions of San Rafael and San Francisco
Solano.

San Francisco was secularized in 1834-1835, with Joaquin
Estudillo as comisionado. The valuation in 1835
was real estate and fixtures, $25,800; church property,
$17,800; available assets in excess of debts (chiefly
live-stock), $16,400, or a total of $60,000. If
any property was ever divided among the Indians, there
is no record to show it.

On June 5, 1845, Pio Pico’s proclamation was
made, requiring the Indians of Dolores Mission to
reunite and occupy it or it would be declared abandoned
and disposed of for the general good of the department.
A fraudulent title to the Mission was given, and antedated
February 10, 1845; but it was afterwards declared void,
and the building was duly returned to the custody
of the archbishop, under whose direction it still
remains.

Page 62

After Commodore Sloat had taken possession of Monterey
for the United States, in 1846, it was merely the
work of a day or so to get despatches to Captain Montgomery,
of the ship “Portsmouth,” who was in San
Francisco bay and who immediately raised the stars
and stripes, and thus the city of the Golden Gate
entered into American possession. While the city
was materially concerned in the events immediately
following the occupation, the Mission was already
too nearly dead to participate. In 1846 the bishop
succeeded in finding a curate for a short period, but
nothing in the records can be found as to the final
disposition of the property belonging to the ex-Mission.
In the political caldron it had totally disappeared.

In the early days the Mission Indians were buried
in the graveyard, then the soldiers and settlers,
Spanish and Mexican, and the priests, and, later,
the Americanos. But all is neglected and
uncared for, except by Nature, and, after all, perhaps
it is better so. The kindly spirited Earth Mother
has given forth vines and myrtle and ivy and other
plants in profusion, that have hidden the old graveled
walks and the broken flags. Rose bushes grow
untrimmed, untrained and frankly beautiful; while
pepper and cypress wave gracefully and poetically suggestive
over graves of high and low, historic and unknown.
For here are names carved on stone denoting that beneath
lie buried those who helped make California history.
Just at the side entrance of the church is a stone
with this inscription to the first governor of California:
“Aqui yacen los restos del Capitan Don Luis
Antonio Argueello, Primer Gobernador del Alta California,
Bajo el Gobierno Mejicano. Nacio en San Francisco
el 21 de Junio, 1774, y murio en el mismo lugar el
27 de Marzo, 1830.”

Farther along is a brown stone monument, erected by
the members of the famous fire company, to Casey,
who was hung by the Vigilantes—­Casey, who
shot James King of William. The monument, adorned
with firemen’s helmets and bugles in stone,
stands under the shadow of drooping pepper sprays,
and is inscribed: “Sacred to the memory
of James P. Casey, who Departed this life May 23,
1856, Aged 27 years. May God forgive my Persecutors.
Requiescat en pace.”

Poor, sad Dolores! How utterly lost it now looks!

During the earthquake and fire of 1906, the new church
by its side was destroyed. But the old Indian-built
structure was preserved and still stands as a grand
memorial of the past.

CHAPTER XVI

SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO

On the tragic events at San Diego that led to the
delay in the founding of San Juan Capistrano I have
already fully dwelt. The Mission was founded
by Serra, November 1, 1776, and the adobe church recently
restored by the Landmarks Club is said to be the original
church built at that time.

Troubles began here early, as at San Gabriel, owing
to the immorality of the guards with the Indian women,
and in one disturbance three Indians were killed and
several wounded. In 1781 the padre feared another
uprising, owing to incitements of the Colorado River
Indians, who came here across the desert and sought
to arouse the local Indians to revolt.

Page 63

[Illustration: FACHADA OF MISSION SAN FRANCISCO.]

[Illustration: RUINS OF MISSION SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO.]

[Illustration: ARCHED CLOISTERS AT SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO.]

[Illustration: ARCHED CORRIDORS AT SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO.]

In 1787 Governor Fages reported that San Juan was
in a thoroughly prosperous condition; lands were fertile,
ministers faithful and zealous, and natives well disposed.
In 1800 the number of neophytes was 1046, horses and
cattle 8500, while it had the vast number of 17,000
sheep. Crops were 6300 bushels, and in 1797 the
presidios of Santa Barbara and San Diego owed San
Juan Mission over $6000 for supplies furnished.
In 1794 two large adobe granaries with tile roofs,
and forty houses for neophytes were built. In
February, 1797, work was begun on the church, the
remains of which are now to be seen. It is in
the form of a Roman cross, ninety feet wide and a
hundred and eighty feet long, and was planned by Fray
Gorgonio. It was probably the finest of all the
California Mission structures. Built of quarried
stone, with arched roof of the same material and a
lofty tower adorning its fachada, it justifies
the remark that “it could not be duplicated to-day
under $100,000.”

The consecration of the beautiful new church took
place, September 7, 1806. President Tapis was
aided by padres from many Missions, and the scene
was made gorgeous and brilliant by the presence of
Governor Arrillaga and his staff, with many soldiers
from San Diego and Santa Barbara.

The following day another mass was said and sermon
preached, and on the 9th the bones of Padre Vicente
Fuster were transferred to their final resting-place
within the altar of the new church. A solemn requiem
mass was chanted, thus adding to the solemnity of
the occasion.

The church itself originally had seven domes.
Only two now remain. In the earthquake of 1812,
when the tower fell, one of the domes was crushed,
but the others remained fairly solid and intact until
the sixties of the last century, when, with a zeal
that outran all discretion, and that the fool-killer
should have been permitted to restrain, they were
blown up with gunpowder by mistaken friends who expected
to rebuild the church with the same material, but never
did so.

This earthquake of 1812 was felt almost the whole
length of the Mission chain, and it did much damage.
It occurred on Sunday morning December 8. At
San Juan a number of neophytes were at morning mass;
the day had opened with intense sultriness and heaviness;
the air was hot and seemed charged with electricity.
Suddenly a shock was felt. All were alarmed,
but, devoted to his high office, the padre began again
the solemn words, when, suddenly, the second shock
came and sent the great tower crashing down upon one
of the domes or vaults, and in a moment the whole mass
of masonry came down upon the congregation. Thirty-nine
were buried in the next two days, and four were taken
out of the ruins later. The officiating priest
escaped, as by a miracle, through the sacristy.

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It was in 1814 that Padre Boscana, who had been serving
at San Luis Rey, came to reside at San Juan Capistrano,
where he wrote the interesting account of the Indians
that is so often quoted. In 1812, its population
gained its greatest figure, 1361.

In November, 1833, Figueroa secularized the Mission
by organizing a “provisional pueblo” of
the Indians, and claiming that the padres voluntarily
gave up the temporalities. There is no record
of any inventory, and what became of the church property
is not known. Lands were apportioned to the Indians
by Captain Portilla. The following year, most
probably, all this provisional work of Figueroa’s
was undone, and the Mission was secularized in the
ordinary way, but in 1838 the Indians begged for the
pueblo organization again, and freedom from overseers,
whether lay or clerical. In 1840 Padre Zalvidea
was instructed to emancipate them from Mission rule
as speedily as possible. Janssens was appointed
majordomo, and he reported that he zealously worked
for the benefit of the Mission, repairing broken fences
and ditches, bringing back runaway neophytes, clothing
them and caring for the stock. But orders soon
began to come in for the delivery of cattle and horses,
applications rapidly came in for grants of the Mission
ranches, and about the middle of June, 1841, the lands
were divided among the ex-neophytes, about 100 in
number, and some forty whites. At the end of
July regulations were published for the foundation
of the pueblo, and Don Juan Bandini soon thereafter
went to supervise the work. He remained until
March, 1842, in charge of the community property, and
then left about half a dozen white families and twenty
or more ex-neophytes duly organized as a pueblo.

In 1843 San Juan was one of the Missions the temporalities
of which were to be restored to the Padres, provided
they paid one-eighth of all produce into the public
treasury. In 1844 it was reported that San Juan
had no minister, and all its neophytes were scattered.
In 1845 Pico’s decree was published, stating
that it was to be considered a pueblo; the church,
curate’s house and court-house should be reserved,
and the rest of the property sold at auction for the
payment of debts and the support of public worship.
In December of that year the ex-Mission buildings and
gardens were sold to Forster and McKinley for $710,
the former of whom retained possession for many years.
In 1846 the pueblo was reported as possessing a population
of 113 souls.

Twenty years ago there used to be one of the best
of the Mission libraries at San Juan. The books
were all in old-style leather, sheepskin and parchment
bindings, some of them tied with leathern thongs,
and a few having heavy homemade metal clasps.
They were all in Latin or Spanish, and were well known
books of divinity. The first page of the record
of marriages was written and signed by Junipero Serra.

[Illustration: CAMPANILE AND RUINS OF MISSION
SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO.]

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There are still several interesting relics; among
others, two instruments, doubtless Indian-made, used
during the Easter services. One is a board studded
with handle-like irons, which, when moved rapidly
from side to side, makes a hideous noise. Another
is a three-cornered box, on which are similar irons,
and in this a loose stone is rattled In the service
called “las tinieblas,”—­the
utter darkness,—­expressive of the darkness
after the crucifixion, when the church is absolutely
without light, the appalling effect of these noises,
heightened by the clanking of chains, is indescribable.
In proof of the tireless industry of the priests and
Indians of their charge, there are to be found at San
Juan many ruins of the aqueducts, or flumes, some of
brick, others of wood, supported across ravines, which
conveyed the water needed to irrigate the eighty acres
of orchard, vineyard, and garden that used to be surrounded
by an adobe wall. Reservoirs, cisterns, and zanjas
of brick, stone, and cement are seen here and there,
and several remnants of the masonry aqueducts are
still found in the village.

CHAPTER XVII

SANTA CLARA DE ASIS

Rivera delayed the founding of San Francisco and Santa
Clara for reasons of his own; and when, in September,
1776, he received a letter from Viceroy Bucareli,
in which were references clearly showing that it was
supposed by the writer that they were already established,
he set to work without further delay, and went with
Padre Pena, as already related. The Mission was
duly founded January 12, 1777. A square of seventy
yards was set off and buildings at once begun.
Cattle and other Mission property were sent down from
San Francisco and San Carlos, and the guard returned.
But it was not long before the Indians developed an
unholy love for contraband beef, and Moraga and his
soldiers were sent for to capture and punish the thieves.
Three of them were killed, but even then depredations
occasionally continued. At the end of the year
there had been sixty-seven baptisms, including eight
adults, and twenty-five deaths.

The present is the third site occupied by Santa Clara.
The Mission was originally established some three
miles away, near Alviso, at the headwaters of the
San Francisco Bay, near the river Guadalupe, on a
site called by the Indians So-co-is-u-ka (laurel wood).
It was probably located there on account of its being
the chief rendezvous of the Indians, fishing being
good, the river having an abundance of salmon trout.
The Mission remained there only a short time, as the
waters rose twice in 1779, and washed it out.
Then the padres removed, in 1780-1782, and built about
150 yards southwest of the present broad-gauge (Southern

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Pacific) depot, where quite recently traces were found
of the old adobe walls. They remained at this
spot, deeming the location good, until an earthquake
in 1812 gave them considerable trouble. A second
earthquake in 1818 so injured their buildings that
they felt compelled to move to the present site, which
has been occupied ever since. The Mission Church
and other buildings were begun in 1818, and finally
dedicated in 1822. The site was called by the
Indians Gerguensun—­the Valley of
the Oaks.

On the 29th of November, 1777, the pueblo of San Jose
was founded. The padres protested at the time
that it was too near the Mission of Santa Clara, and
for the next decade there was constant irritation,
owing to the encroachments of the white settlers upon
the lands of the Indians. Complaints were made
and formally acted upon, and in July, 1801, the boundaries
were surveyed, as asked for by the padres, and landmarks
clearly marked and agreed upon so as to prevent future
disputes.

In 1800 Santa Clara was the banner Mission for population,
having 1247. Live-stock had increased to about
5000 head of each (cattle and horses), and crops were
good.

In 1802, August 12, a grand high altar, which had
been obtained in Mexico, was consecrated with elaborate
ceremonies.

Padre Viader, the priest in charge, was a very muscular
and athletic man; and one night, in 1814, a young
gentile giant, named Marcelo, and two companions attacked
him. In the rough and tumble fight which ensued
the padre came out ahead; and after giving the culprits
a severe homily on the sin of attacking a priest,
they were pardoned, Marcelo becoming one of his best
and most faithful friends thereafter. Robinson
says Viader was “a good old man, whose heart
and soul were in proportion to his immense figure.”

In 1820 the neophyte population was 1357, stock 5024,
horses 722, sheep 12,060. The maximum of population
was reached in 1827, of 1464 souls. After that
it began rapidly to decline. The crops, too, were
smaller after 1820, without any apparent reason.

In 1837 secularization was effected by Ramon Estrada.
In 1839-1840 reports show that two-thirds of the cattle
and sheep had disappeared. The downfall of the
Mission was very rapid. The neophyte population
in 1832 was 1125, in 1834 about 800, and at the end
of the decade about 290, with 150 more scattered in
the district.

[Illustration: ONE OF THE DOORS, SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO.]

[Illustration: IN THE AMBULATORY AT SAN JUAN
CAPISTRANO.]

[Illustration: MISSION SANTA CLARA IN 1849.]

[Illustration: CHURCH OF SANTA CLARA. On
the site of old Mission of Santa Clara.]

The total of baptisms from 1777 to 1874 is 8640, of
deaths 6950.

The old register of marriages records 3222 weddings
from January 12, 1778, to August 15, 1863.

In 1833 Padre Viader closed his missionary service
of nearly forty years in California by leaving the
country, and Padre Francisco Garcia Diego, the prefect
of the Zacatecan friars, became his successor.
Diego afterwards became the first bishop of California.

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In July, 1839, a party called Yozcolos, doubtless
after their leader, attacked the neophytes guarding
the Santa Clara wheat-fields, killing one of them.
The attackers were pursued, and their leader slain,
and the placing of his head on a pole seemed to act
as a deterrent of further acts for awhile.

In December of the same year Prado Mesa made an expedition
against gentile thieves in the region of the Stanislaus
River. He was surprised by the foe, three of
his men killed, and he and six others wounded, besides
losing a number of his weapons. This Indian success
caused great alarm, and a regular patrol was organized
to operate between San Jose and San Juan Missions
for the protection of the ranches. This uprising
of the Indians was almost inevitable. Deprived
of their maintenance at the Missions, they were practically
thrown on their own resources, and in many cases this
left them a prey to the evil leadership of desperate
men of their own class.

Santa Clara was one of the Missions immediately affected
by the decree of Micheltorena, of March 29, 1843,
requiring that the padres reassume the management
of the temporalities. They set to work to gather
up what fragments they could find, but the flocks
and herds were “lent” where they could
not be recovered, and one flock of 4000 sheep—­the
padre says 6000—­were taken by M.J.
Vallejo, “legally, in aid of the government.”

Pio Pico’s decree of June 5, 1845, affected
Santa Clara. Andres Pico made a valuation of
the property at $16,173. There were then 130
ex-neophytes, the live-stock had dwindled down to 430
cattle, 215 horses, and 809 sheep. The padre
found it necessary to write a sharp letter to the
alcalde of San Jose on the grog-shops of that pueblo,
which encouraged drinking among his Indians to such
extent that they were completely demoralized.

March 19, 1851, the parish priest, who was a cultivated
and learned Jesuit, and who had prepared the way,
succeeded in having the Santa Clara College established
in the old Mission buildings. On the 28th of
April, 1855, it was chartered with all the rights and
privileges of a university. In due time the college
grew to large proportions, and it was found imperative
either to remove the old Mission structure completely,
or renovate it out of all recognition. This latter
was done, so that but little of the old church remains.

In restoring it in 1861-1862 the nave was allowed
to remain, but in 1885 it was found necessary to remove
it. Its walls were five feet thick. The
adobe bricks were thrown out upon the plaza behind
the cross.

The present occupation of Santa Clara as a university
as well as a church necessitated the adaptation of
the old cloisters to meet the modern conditions.
Therefore the casual visitor would scarcely notice
that the reception-room into which he is ushered is
a part of the old cloisters. The walls are about
three feet thick, and are of adobe. In the garden
the beams of the cloister roofs are to be seen.

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The old Mission vineyard, where the grapes used to
thrive, is now converted into a garden. A number
of the old olive trees still remain. Of the three
original bells of the Mission, two still call the faithful
to worship. One was broken and had to be recast
in San Francisco.

On the altar, there are angels with flambeaux in their
hands, of wooden carving. These are deemed the
work of the Indians. There are also several old
statues of the saints, including San Joaquin, Santa
Ana, San Juan Capistrano, and Santa Colette.
In the sodality chapel, also, there are statues of
San Francisco and San Antonio. The altar rail
of the restored Santa Clara church was made from the
beams of the old Mission. These were of redwood,
secured from the Santa Cruz mountains, and, I believe,
are the earliest specimens of redwood used for lumber
in California The rich natural coloring and the beauty
of the grain and texture have improved with the years
The old octagonal pulpit, though not now used is restored
and honored, standing upon a modern pedestal.

Santa Clara was noted for the longevity of some of
its Indians. One of them, Gabriel, who died in
1891 or 1892 at the hospital in Salinas, claimed he
was a grandfather when Serra came in 1767. He
must have been over 150 years old when he died.
Another, Inigo, was known to be 101 years of age at
his death.

In a room in the college building is gathered together
an interesting collection of articles belonging to
the old Mission. Here are the chairs of the sanctuary,
processional candlesticks, pictures, and the best
bound book in the State—­an old choral.
It rests on a stand at the end of the room. The
lids are of wood, covered with thick leather and bound
in very heavy bronze, with bosses half an inch high.
Each corner also has bronze protuberances, half an
inch long, that stand out on the bottom, or edge of
the cover, so that they raise the whole book.
The volume is of heaviest vellum and is entirely hand-written
in red and black; and though a century or more has
passed since it was written it is clear and perfect,
has 139 pages. The brothers of the college have
placed this inscription over it: “Ancient
choral, whose wooden cover, leather bound and covered
in bronze, came, probably, originally from Spain,
and has age of some 500 years.”

In a case which extends across the room are ancient
vestments, the key of the old Mission, statuary brackets
from the ancient altar, the altar bell, crown of thorns
from the Mission crucifix, altar card-frames, and
the rosary and crucifix that once belonged to Padre
Magin Catala.

Padre Catala, the good man of Santa Clara, is deemed
by the leaders of the Catholic Church in California
to be worthy the honors and elevation of sainthood,
and proceedings are now in operation before the highest
Court of the Church in Rome to see whether he is entitled
to these posthumous honors. The Franciscan historian
for California, Father Zephyrin Englehardt, has written
a book entitled The Holy Man of Santa Clara,
in which not only the life of Padre Catala is given,
but the whole of the procedure necessary to convince
the Church tribunal of his worth and sainthood.
The matter is not yet (1913) settled.

Page 69

On the walls are some of the ancient paintings, one
especially noteworthy. It is of Christ multiplying
the loaves and fishes (John vi. II). While
it is not a great work of art, the benignity and sweetness
of the Christ face redeem it from crudeness.
With upraised right hand he is blessing the loaves
which rest in his left hand, while the boy with the
fishes kneels reverently at his feet.

The University of Santa Clara is now rapidly erecting
its new buildings, in a modified form of Mission architecture,
to meet its enlarging needs The buildings, when completed,
will present to the world a great institution of learning—­the
oldest west of the Rocky Mountains—­well
equipped in every department for the important labor
in the education of the Catholic youth of California
and the west that it has undertaken.

CHAPTER XVIII

SAN BUENAVENTURA

For thirteen years the heart of the venerable Serra
was made sick by the postponements in the founding
of this Mission. The Viceroy de Croix had ordered
Governor Rivera “to recruit seventy-five soldiers
for the establishment of a presidio and three Missions
in the channel of Santa Barbara: one towards
the north of the channel, which was to be dedicated
to the Immaculate Conception; one towards the south,
dedicated to San Buenaventura, and a third in the
centre, dedicated to Santa Barbara.”

It was with intense delight that Serra received a
call from Governor Neve, who, in February, 1782, informed
him that he was prepared to proceed at once to the
founding of the Missions of San Buenaventura and Santa
Barbara. Although busy training his neophytes,
he determined to go in person and perform the necessary
ceremonies. Looking about for a padre to accompany
him, and all his own coadjutors being engaged, he
bethought him of Father Pedro Benito Cambon, a returned
invalid missionary from the Philippine Islands, who
was recuperating at San Diego. He accordingly
wrote Padre Cambon, requesting him, if possible, to
meet him at San Gabriel. On his way to San Gabriel,
Serra passed through the Indian villages of the channel
region, and could not refrain from joyfully communicating
the news to the Indians that, very speedily, he would
return to them, and establish Missions in their midst.

In the evening of March 18, Serra reached Los Angeles,
and next evening, after walking to San Gabriel, weighed
down with his many cares, and weary with his long
walk, he still preached an excellent sermon, it being
the feast of the patriarch St. Joseph. Father
Cambon had arrived, and after due consultation with
him and the governor, the date for the setting out
of the expedition was fixed for Tuesday, March 26.
The week was spent in confirmation services and other
religious work, and, on the date named, after solemn
mass, the party set forth. It was the most imposing
procession ever witnessed in California up to that
time, and called forth many gratified remarks from
Serra. There were seventy soldiers, with their
captain, commander for the new presidio, ensign, sergeant,
and corporals. In full gubernatorial dignity followed
Governor Neve, with ten soldiers of the Monterey company,
their wives and families, servants and neophytes.

Page 70

[Illustration: SIDE ENTRANCE AT SAN BUENAVENTURA.]

[Illustration: FACHADA OF MISSION SAN BUENAVENTURA.]

[Illustration: STATUE OF SAN BUENAVENTURA.
Now at Dominican Convent, Mission San Jose.]

At midnight they halted, and a special messenger overtook
them with news which led the governor to return at
once to San Gabriel with his ten soldiers. He
ordered the procession to proceed, however, found the
San Buenaventura Mission, and there await his arrival.
Serra accordingly went forward, and on the twenty-ninth
arrived at “Assumpta.” Here, the
next day, on the feast of Easter, they pitched their
tents, “erected a large cross, and prepared
an altar under a shade of evergreens,” where
the venerable Serra, now soon to close his life-work,
blessed the cross and the place, solemnized mass,
preached a sermon to the soldiers on the Resurrection
of Christ, and formally dedicated the Mission to God,
and placed it under the patronage of St. Joseph.

In the earlier part of the last century the Mission
began to grow rapidly. Padres Francisco Dumetz
and Vicente de Santa Maria, who had been placed in
charge of the Mission from the first, were gladdened
by many accessions, and the Mission flocks and herds
also increased rapidly. Indeed, we are told that
“in 1802 San Buenaventura possessed finer herds
of cattle and richer fields of grain than any of her
contemporaries, and her gardens and orchards were visions
of wealth and beauty.”

On his second visit to the California coast, Vancouver,
when anchored off Santa Barbara, traded with Padre
Santa Maria of San Buenaventura for a flock of sheep
and as many vegetables as twenty mules could carry.

It is to Vancouver, on this voyage, that we owe the
names of a number of points on the California coast,
as, for instance, Points Sal, Argueello Felipe, Vicente,
Dumetz, Fermin, and Lasuen.

In 1795 there was a fight between the neophyte and
gentile Indians, the former killing two chiefs and
taking captive several of the latter. The leaders
on both sides were punished, the neophyte Domingo even
being sentenced to work in chains.

In 1806 the venerable Santa Maria, one of the Mission
founders, died. His remains were ultimately placed
in the new church.

In 1800 the largest population in its history was
reached, with 1297 souls. Cattle and horses prospered,
and the crops were reported as among the best in California.

The earthquake of 1812-1813 did considerable damage
at San Buenaventura. Afraid lest the sea would
swallow them up, the people fled to San Joaquin y
Santa Ana for three months, where a temporary jacal
church was erected. The tower and a part of the
fachada had to be torn down and rebuilt, and
this was done by 1818, with a new chapel dedicated
to San Miguel in addition.

That San Buenaventura was prosperous is shown by the
fact that in June, 1820, the government owed it $27,385
for supplies, $6200 in stipends, and $1585 for a cargo
of hemp,—­a total of $35,170, which, says
Bancroft, “there was not the slightest chance
of it ever receiving.”

Page 71

In 1823 the president and vice-prefect Senan, who
had served as padre at this Mission for twenty-five
years, died August 24, and was buried by the side
of Santa Maria. After his death San Buenaventura
began rapidly to decline.

In 1822 a neophyte killed his wife for adultery.
It is interesting to note that in presenting his case
the fiscal said that as the culprit had been a Christian
only seven years, and was yet ignorant in matters of
domestic discipline, he asked for the penalty of five
years in the chain gang and then banishment.

The baptisms for the whole period of the Mission’s
history, viz., for 1782-1834, are 3876.
There is still preserved at the Mission the first
register, which was closed in 1809. At that time
2648 baptisms had been administered. The padre
presidente, Serra, wrote the heading for the Index,
and the contents themselves were written in a beautiful
hand by Padre Senan. There are four signatures
which occur throughout in the following order:
Pedro Benito Cambon, Francisco Dumetz, Vicente de Sta
Maria, and Jose Senan.

The largest population was 1330 in 1816. The
largest number of cattle was 23,400 in the same year.
In 1814, 4652 horses; in 1816, 13,144 sheep.

Micheltorena’s decree in 1843 restored the temporalities
of the Mission to the padres. This was one of
the two Missions, Santa Ines being the other, that
was able to provide a moderate subsistence out of the
wreck left by secularization. On the 5th of December,
1845, Pico rented San Buenaventura to Jose Arnaz and
Marcisco Botello for $1630 a year. There are
no statistics of the value of the property after 1842,
though in April of 1843 Padre Jimeno reports 2382
cattle, 529 horses, 2299 sheep, 220 mules and 18 asses,
1032 fruit trees and 11,907 vines. In November
of that same year the bishop appointed Presbyter, Resales,
since which time the Mission has been the regular
parish church of the city.

In 1893 the Mission church was renovated out of all
its historic association and value by Father Rubio,
who had a good-natured but fearfully destructive zeal
for the “restoration” of the old Missions.
Almost everything has been modernized. The fine
old pulpit, one of the richest treasures of the Mission,
was there several years ago; but when, in 1904, I
inquired of the then pastor where it was, I was curtly
informed that he neither knew nor cared. All the
outbuildings have been demolished and removed in order
to make way for the modern spirit of commercialism
which in the last decade has struck the town.
It is now an ordinary church, with little but its
history to redeem it from the look of smug modernity
which is the curse of the present age.

Before leaving San Buenaventura it may be interesting
to note that a few years ago I was asked about two
“wooden bells” which were said to have
been hung in the tower at this Mission. I deemed
the question absurd, but on one of my visits found
one of these bells in a storeroom under the altar,
and another still hanging in the belfry. By whom,
or why, these dummy bells were made, I have not been
able to discover.

Page 72

CHAPTER XIX

SANTA BARBARA

After the founding of San Buenaventura. Governor
Neve arrived from San Gabriel, inspected the new site,
and expressed himself as pleased with all that had
been done. A few days later he, with Padre Serra,
and a number of soldiers and officers, started up
the coast, and, selecting a site known to the Indians
after the name of their chief, Yanonalit, established
the presidio of Santa Barbara. Yanonalit was very
friendly, and as he had authority over thirteen rancherias
he was able to help matters along easily. This
was April 21, 1782.

When Serra came to the establishment of the presidio,
he expected also to found the Mission, and great was
his disappointment. This undoubtedly hastened
his death, which occurred August 28, 1782.

[Illustration: MISSION SANTA BARBARA.]

[Illustration: MISSION SANTA BARBARA FROM THE
HILLSIDE.]

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF MISSION SANTA BARBARA.]

It was not until two years later that Neve’s
successor, Fages, authorized Serra’s successor,
Lasuen, to proceed. Even then it was feared that
he would demand adherence to new conditions which were
to the effect that the padres should not have control
over the temporal affairs of the Indians; but, as
the guardian of the college had positively refused
to send missionaries for the new establishments, unless
they were founded on the old lines, Fages tacitly agreed.
On December 4, therefore, the cross was raised on
the site called Taynayan by the Indians and
Pedragoso by the Spaniards, and formal possession
taken, though the first mass was not said until Fages’s
arrival on the 16th. Lasuen was assisted by Padres
Antonio Paterna and Cristobal Oramas. Father
Zephyrin has written a very interesting account of
Santa Barbara Mission, some of which is as follows:

“The work of erecting the necessary buildings
began early in 1787. With a number of Indians,
who had first to be initiated into the mysteries of
house construction, Fathers Paterna and Oramas built
a dwelling for themselves together with a chapel.
These were followed by a house for the servants, who
were male Indians, a granary, carpenter shop, and
quarters for girls and unmarried young women.

“In succeeding years other structures arose
on the rocky height as the converts increased and
industries were introduced. At the end of 1807
the Indian village, which had sprung up just southwest
of the main building, consisted of 252 separate adobe
dwellings harboring as many Indian families.
The present Mission building, with its fine corridor,
was completed about the close of the eighteenth century.
The fountain in front arose in 1808. It furnished
the water for the great basin just below, which served
for the general laundry purposes of the Indian village.
The water was led through earthen pipes from the reservoir

Page 73

north of the church, which to this day furnishes Santa
Barbara with water. It was built in 1806.
To obtain the precious liquid from the mountains,
a very strong dam was built across ‘Pedragoso’
creek about two miles back of the Mission. It
is still in good condition. Then there were various
structures scattered far and near for the different
trades, since everything that was used in the way
of clothing and food had to be raised or manufactured
at the Mission.

“The chapel grew too small within a year from
the time it was dedicated, Sunday, May 21, 1787.
It was therefore enlarged in 1788, but by the year
1792 this, also, proved too small. Converts were
coming in rapidly. The old structure was then
taken down, and a magnificent edifice took its place
in 1793. Its size was 25 by 125 feet. There
were three small chapels on each side, like the two
that are attached to the present church. An earthquake,
which occurred on Monday, December 21, 1812, damaged
this adobe building to such an extent that it had to
be taken down. On its site rose the splendid
structure, which is still the admiration of the traveler.
Padre Antonio Ripoll superintended the work, which
continued through five years, from 1815 to 1820.
It was dedicated on the 10th of September, 1820.
The walls, which are six feet thick, consist of irregular
sandstone blocks, and are further strengthened by
solid stone buttresses measuring nine by nine feet.
The towers to a height of thirty feet are a solid
mass of stone and cement twenty feet square.
A narrow passage leads through one of these to the
top, where the old bells still call the faithful to
service as of yore. Doubtless the Santa Barbara
Mission church is the most solid structure of its
kind in California. It is 165 feet long, forty
feet wide and thirty feet high on the outside.
Like the monastery, the church is roofed with tiles
which were manufactured at the Mission by the Indians.”

The report for 1800 is full of interest. It recounts
the activity in building, tells of the death of Padre
Paterna, who died in 1793, and was followed by Estevan
Tapis (afterwards padre presidente), and says that
1237 natives have been baptized, and that the Mission
now owns 2492 horses and cattle, and 5615 sheep.
Sixty neophytes are engaged in weaving and allied
tasks; the carpenter of the presidio is engaged at
a dollar a day to teach the neophytes his trade; and
a corporal is teaching them tanning at $150 a year.

In 1803 the population was the highest the Mission
ever reached, with 1792. In May, 1808, a determined
effort lasting nine days was made to rid the region
of ground squirrels, and about a thousand were killed.

The earthquakes of 1812 alarmed the people and damaged
the buildings at Santa Barbara as elsewhere.
The sea was much disturbed, and new springs of asphaltum
were formed, great cracks opened in the mountains,
and the population fled all buildings and lived in
the open air.

Page 74

On the sixth of December, in the same year, the arrival
of Bouchard, “the pirate,” gave them a
new shock of terror. The padres had already been
warned to send all their valuables to Santa Ines, and
the women and children were to proceed thither on
the first warning of an expected attack. But
Bouchard made no attack. He merely wanted to exchange
“prisoners.” He played a pretty trick
on the Santa Barbara comandante in negotiating for
such exchange, and then, when the hour of delivery
came, it was found he had but one prisoner,—­a
poor drunken wretch whom the authorities would have
been glad to get rid of at any price.

In 1824 the Indian revolt, which is fully treated
in the chapters on Santa Ines and Purisima, reached
Santa Barbara. While Padre Ripoll was absent
at the presidio, the neophytes armed themselves and
worked themselves into a frenzy. They claimed
that they were in danger from the Santa Ines rebels
unless they joined the revolt, though they promised
to do no harm if only the soldiers were sent and kept
away. Accordingly Ripoll gave an order for the
guard to withdraw, but the Indians insisted that the
soldiers leave their weapons. Two refused, whereupon
they we’re savagely attacked and wounded.
This so incensed Guerra that he marched up from the
presidio in full force, and a fight of several hours
ensued, the Indians shooting with guns and arrows
from behind the pillars of the corridors. Two
Indians were killed and three wounded, and four of
the soldiers were wounded. When Guerra retired
to the presidio, the Indians stole all the clothing
and other portable property they could carry (carefully
respecting everything, however, belonging to the church),
and fled to the hills. That same afternoon the
troops returned and, despite the padre’s protest,
sacked the Indians’ houses and killed all the
stragglers they found, regardless of their guilt or
innocence. The Indians refused to return, and
retreated further over the mountains to the recesses
of the Tulares. Here they were joined by escaped
neophytes from San Fernando and other Missions.
The alarm spread to San Buenaventura and San Gabriel,
but few, if any, Indians ran away. In the meantime
the revolt was quelled at Santa Ines and Purisima,
as elsewhere recorded.

On the strength of reports that he heard, Governor
Argueello recalled the Monterey troops; but this appeared
to be a mistake, for, immediately, Guerra of Santa
Barbara sent eighty men over to San Emigdio, where,
on April 9 and 11, severe conflicts took place, with
four Indians killed, and wounded on both sides.
A wind and dust storm arising, the troops returned
to Santa Barbara.

In May the governor again took action, sending Captain
Portilla with a force of 130 men. The prefect
Sarria and Padre Ripoll went along to make as peaceable
terms as possible, and a message which Sarria sent
on ahead doubtless led the insurgents to sue for peace.
They said they were heartily sorry for their actions
and were anxious to return to Mission life, but hesitated
about laying down their arms for fear of summary punishment.
The gentiles still fomented trouble by working on the
fears of the neophytes, but owing to Argueello’s
granting a general pardon, they were finally, in June,
induced to return, and the revolt was at an end.

Page 75

After these troubles, however, the Mission declined
rapidly in prosperity. Though the buildings under
Padre Ripoll were in excellent condition, and the
manufacturing industries were well kept up, everything
else suffered.

In 1817 a girls’ school for whites was started
at the presidio of Santa Barbara, but nothing further
is known of it. Several years later a school
was opened, and Diego Fernandez received $15 a month
as its teacher. But Governor Echeandia ordered
that, as not a single scholar attended, this expense
be discontinued; yet he required the comandante to
compel parents to send their children to school.

In 1833 Presidente Duran, discussing with Governor
Figueroa the question of secularization, deprecated
too sudden action, and suggested a partial and experimental
change at some of the oldest Missions, Santa Barbara
among the number.

When the decree from Mexico, came, however, this was
one of the first ten Missions to be affected thereby.
Anastasio Carrillo was appointed comisionado, and
acted from September, 1833. His inventory in March,
1834, showed credits, $14,953; buildings, $22,936;
furniture, tools, goods in storehouse, vineyards,
orchards, corrals, and animals, $19,590; church, $16,000;
sacristy, $1500; church ornaments, etc., $4576;
library, $152; ranches, $30,961; total, $113,960, with
a debt to be deducted of $1000.

The statistics from 1786 to 1834, the whole period
of the Mission’s history, show that there were
5679 baptisms, 1524 marriages, 4046 deaths. The
largest population was 1792 in 1803. The largest
number of cattle was 5200 in 1809, of sheep, 11,066
in 1804.

Here, as elsewhere, the comisionados found serious
fault with the pueblo grog-shops. In 1837 Carrillo
reports that he has broken up a place where Manuel
Gonzalez sold liquor to the Indians, and he calls upon
the comandante to suppress other places. In March,
1838, he complains that the troops are killing the
Mission cattle, but is told that General Castro had
authorized the officers to kill all the cattle needed
without asking permission. When the Visitador
Hartwell was here in 1839 he found Carrillo’s
successor Cota an unfit man, and so reported him.
He finally suspended him, and the Indians became more
contented and industrious under Padre Duran’s
supervision, though the latter refused to undertake
the temporal management of affairs.

Micheltorena’s decree of 1843 affected Santa
Barbara, in that it was ordered returned to the control
of the padres; but in the following year Padre Duran
reported that it had the greatest difficulty in supporting
its 287 souls. Pico’s decree in 1845 retained
the principal building for the bishop and padres;
but all the rest and the orchards and lands were to
be rented, which was accordingly done December 5, to
Nicholas A. Den and Daniel Hill for $1200 per year,
the property being valued at $20,288. Padre Duran
was growing old, and the Indians were becoming more

Page 76

careless and improvident; so, when Pico wrote him to
give up the Mission lands and property to the renters,
he did so willingly, though he stated that the estate
owed him $1000 for money he had advanced for the use
of the Indians. The Indians were to receive one
third of the rental, but there is no record of a cent
of it ever getting into their hands. June 10,
1846, Pico sold the Mission to Richard S. Den for $7500,
though the lessees seem to have kept possession until
about the end of 1848. The land commission confirmed
Den’s title, though the evidences are that it
was annulled in later litigation. Padre Duran
died here early in 1846, a month after Bishop Diego.
Padre Gonzalez Rubio still remained for almost thirty
years longer to become the last of the old missionaries.

In 1853 a petition was presented to Rome, and Santa
Barbara was erected into a Hospice, as the beginning
of an Apostolic College for the education of Franciscan
novitiates who are to go forth, wherever sent, as
missionaries. St. Anthony’s College, the
modern building near by, was founded by the energy
of Father Peter Wallischeck. It is for the education
of aspirants to the Franciscan Order. There are
now thirty-five students.

Five of the early missionaries and three of later
date are buried in the crypt, under the floor of the
sanctuary, in front of the high altar; and Bishop
Diego rests under the floor at the right-hand side
of the altar.

The small cemetery, which is walled in and entered
from the church, is said to contain the bodies of
4000 Indians, as well as a number of whites.
In the northeast corner is the vault in which are buried
the members of the Franciscan community.

In the bell tower are two old bells made in 1818,
as is evidenced by their inscriptions, which read
alike, as follows: “Manvel Vargas me fecit
ano d. 1818 Mision de Santa Barbara De la nveba California”—­“Manuel
Vargas made me Anno Domini 1818. Mission of Santa
Barbara of New California.” The first bell
is fastened to its beam with rawhide thongs; the second,
with a framework of iron. Higher up is a modern
bell which is rung (the old ones being tolled only).

The Mission buildings surround the garden, into which
no woman, save a reigning queen or the wife of the
President of the United States, is allowed to enter.
An exception was made in the case of the Princess
Louise when her husband was the Governor-general of
Canada. The wife of President Harrison also has
entered. The garden, with its fine Italian cypress,
planted by Bishop Diego about 1842, and its hundred
varieties of semi-tropical flowers, in the center
of which is a fountain where goldfish play, affords
a delightful place of study, quiet, and meditation
for the Franciscans.

Page 77

It is well that the visitor should know that this
old Mission, never so abandoned and abused as the
others, has been kept up in late years entirely by
the funds given to the Franciscan missionaries, who
are now its custodians, and it has no other income.

The Mission Library contains a large number of valuable
old books gathered from the other Missions at the
time of secularization. There are also kept here
a large number of the old records from which Bancroft
gained much of his Mission intelligence, and which,
recently, have been carefully restudied by Father
Zephyrin, the California historian of the Franciscan
Order. Father Zephyrin is a devoted student, and
many results of his zeal and kindness are placed before
my readers in this volume, owing to his generosity.
His completed history of the Missions and Missionaries
of California is a monumental work.

CHAPTER XX

LA PURISIMA CONCEPCION

Although the date of the founding of this Mission
is given as December 8, 1787,—­for that
was the day on which Presidente Lasuen raised the
cross, blessed the site, celebrated mass, and preached
a dedicatory sermon,—­there was no work
done for several months, owing to the coming of the
rainy season. In the middle of March, 1788, Sergeant
Cota of Santa Barbara, with a band of laborers and
an escort, went up to prepare the necessary buildings;
and early in April Lasuen, accompanied by Padres Vicente
Fuster and Jose Arroita, followed. As early
as August the roll showed an acquisition of seventy-nine
neophytes. During the first decade nearly a thousand
baptisms were recorded, and the Mission flourished
in all departments. Large crops of wheat and grain
were raised, and live-stock increased rapidly.
In 1804 the population numbered 1522, the highest
on record during its history, and in 1810 the number
of live-stock reported was over 20,000; but the unusual
prosperity that attended this Mission during its earlier
years was interrupted by a series of exceptional misfortunes.

The first church erected was crude and unstable, and
fell rapidly into decay. Scarcely a dozen years
had passed, when it became necessary to build a new
one. This was constructed of adobe and roofed
with tile. It was completed in 1802, but although
well built, it was totally destroyed by an earthquake,
as we shall see later on.

The Indians of this section were remarkably intelligent
as well as diligent, and during the first years of
the Mission there were over fifty rancherias in the
district. According to the report of Padre Payeras
in 1810, they were docile and industrious. This
indefatigable worker, with the assistance of interpreters,
prepared a Catechism and Manual of Confession in the
native language, which he found very useful in imparting
religious instruction and in uprooting the prevailing
idolatry. In a little over twenty years the entire
population for many leagues had been baptized, and
were numbered among the converts.

Page 78

This period of peace and prosperity was followed by
sudden disaster. The earthquake of 1812, already
noted as the most severe ever known on the Pacific
Coast, brought devastation to Purisima. The morning
of December 21 found padres and Indians rejoicing
in the possession of the fruits of their labor of
years,—­a fine church, many Mission buildings,
and a hundred houses built of adobe and occupied by
the natives. A few hours afterward little was
left that was fit for even temporary use. The
first vibration, lasting four minutes, damaged the
walls of the church. The second shock, a half-hour
later, caused the total collapse of nearly all the
buildings. Padre Payeras reported that “the
earth opened in several places, emitting water and
black sand.” This calamity was quickly
followed by torrents of rain, and the ensuing floods
added to the distress of the homeless inhabitants.
The remains of this old Mission of 1802 are still
to be seen near Lompoc, and on the hillside above is
a deep scar made by the earthquake, this doubtless
being the crack described by Padre Payeras. But
nothing could daunt the courage or quench the zeal
of the missionaries. Rude huts were erected for
immediate needs, and, having selected a new and more
advantageous site—­five or six miles away—­across
the river, they obtained the necessary permission
from the presidente, and at once commenced the construction
of a new church, and all the buildings needed for carrying
on the Mission. Water for irrigation and domestic
purposes was brought in cement pipes, made and laid
under the direction of the padres, from Salsperde
Creek, three miles away. But other misfortunes
were in store for these unlucky people. During
a drought in the winter of 1816-1817, hundreds of
sheep perished for lack of feed, and in 1818 nearly
all the neophytes’ houses were destroyed by
fire.

In 1823 the Mission lost one of its best friends in
the death of Padre Payeras. Had he lived another
year it is quite possible his skill in adjusting difficulties
might have warded off the outbreak that occurred among
the Indians,—­the famous revolt of 1824.

This revolt, which also affected Santa Ines and Santa
Barbara (see their respective chapters), had serious
consequences at Purisima. After the attack at
Santa Ines the rebels fled to Purisima. In the
meantime the neophytes at this latter Mission, hearing
of the uprising, had seized the buildings. The
guard consisted of Corporal Tapia with four or five
men. He bravely defended the padres and the soldiers’
families through the night, but surrendered when his
powder gave out. One woman was wounded.
The rebels then sent Padres Ordaz and Tapia to Santa
Ines to warn Sergeant Carrillo not to come or the
families would be killed. Before an answer was
received, the soldiers and their families were permitted
to retire to Santa Ines, while Padre Rodriguez remained,
the Indians being kindly disposed towards him.
Four white men were killed in the fight, and seven
Indians.

Page 79

Left now to themselves, and knowing that they were
sure to be attacked ere long, the Indians began to
prepare for defense. They erected palisades,
cut loopholes in the walls of the church and other
buildings, and mounted one or two rusty old cannon.
For nearly a month they were not molested. This
was the end of February.

In the meantime the governor was getting a force ready
at Monterey to send to unite with one under Guerra
from Santa Barbara. On March 16 they were to
have met, but owing to some mischance, the northern
force had to make the attack alone. Cavalry skirmishers
were sent right and left to cut off retreat, and the
rest of the force began to fire on the adobe walls
from muskets and a four-pounder. The four hundred
neophytes within responded with yells of defiance
and cannon, swivel-guns, and muskets, as well as a
cloud of arrows. In their inexperienced hands,
however, little damage was done with the cannon.
By and by the Indians attempted to fly, but were prevented
by the cavalry. Now realizing their defeat, they
begged Padre Rodriguez to intercede for them, which
he did. In two hours and a half the conflict
was over, three Spaniards being wounded, one fatally,
while there were sixteen Indians killed and a large
number wounded. As the governor had delegated
authority to the officers to summarily dispense justice,
they condemned seven of the Indians to death for the
murder of the white men in the first conflict.
They were shot before the end of the month. Four
of the revolt ringleaders were sentenced to ten years
of labor at the presidio and then perpetual exile,
while eight others were condemned to the presidio
for eight years.

There was dissatisfaction expressed with the penalties,—­on
the side of the padres by Ripoll of Santa Barbara,
who claimed that a general pardon had been promised;
and on the part of the governor, who thought his officers
had been too lenient.

An increased guard was left at Purisima after this
affair, and it took some little time before the Indians
completely settled down again, as it was known that
the Santa Barbara Indians were still in revolt.

During all the years when contending with the destructive
forces of earthquake, fire, flood, and battle, to
say nothing of those foes of agriculture,—­drought,
frost, grasshoppers, and squirrels,—­the
material results of native labor were notable.
In 1819 they produced about 100,000 pounds of tallow.
In 1821 the crops of wheat, barley, and corn amounted
to nearly 8000 bushels. Between 1822 and 1827
they furnished the presidio with supplies valued at
$12,921. The population, however, gradually decreased
until about 400 were left at the time of secularization
in 1835. The Purisima estate at this time was
estimated by the appraisers to be worth about $60,000.
The inventory included a library valued at $655 and
five bells worth $1000. With the exception of
the church property this estate, or what remained of

Page 80

it, was sold in 1845 for $1110. Under the management
of administrators appointed by the government, the
Mission property rapidly disappeared, lands were sold,
live-stock killed and scattered, and only the fragments
of wreckage remained to be turned over to the jurisdiction
of the padres according to the decree of Micheltorena
in 1843. The following year an epidemic of smallpox
caused the death of the greater proportion of Indians
still living at Purisima, and the final act in the
history of the once flourishing Mission was reached
In 1845, when, by order of Governor Pico, the ruined
estate was sold to John Temple for the paltry amount
stated above.

In regard to its present ownership and condition,
a gentleman interested writes:

“The abandoned Mission is on
ground which now belongs to the Union Oil Company
of California. The building itself has been desecrated
and damaged by the public ever since its abandonment.
Its visitors apparently did not scruple to deface
it in every possible way, and what could not be stolen
was ruthlessly destroyed. It apparently was
a pleasure to them to pry the massive roof-beams
loose, in order to enjoy the crash occasioned
by the breaking of the valuable tile.

“On top of this the late series
of earthquakes in that section threw down many
of the brick pillars, and twisted the remainder
so badly that the front of the building is a veritable
wreck. During these earthquakes, which lasted
several weeks, tile which could not be replaced
for a thousand dollars were displaced and broken.
To save the balance of the tile, as well as to
avoid possible accidents to visitors, the secretary
of the Oil Company had the remaining tile removed
from the roof and piled up near the building
for safety.”

CHAPTER XXI

SANTA CRUZ

Lasuen found matters far easier for him in the founding
of Missions than did Serra in his later years.
The viceroy agreed to pay $1000 each for the expenses
of the Missions of Santa Cruz and La Soledad, and $200
each for the traveling expenses of the four missionaries
needed. April 1, 1790, the guardian sent provisions
and tools for Santa Cruz to the value of $1021.
Lasuen delayed the founding for awhile, however, as
the needful church ornaments were not at hand; but
as the viceroy promised them and ordered him to go
ahead by borrowing the needed articles from the other
Missions, Lasuen proceeded to the founding, as I have
already related.

At the end of the year 1791 the neophytes numbered
84. In 1796 the highest mark was reached with
523. In 1800 there were but 492. Up to the
end of that year there had been 949 baptisms, 271 couples
married, and 477 buried. There were 2354 head
of large stock, and 2083 small. In 1792 the agricultural
products were about 650 bushels, as against 4300 in
1800.

[Illustration: RUINS OF MISSION LA PURISIMA CONCEPCION.]

Page 81

[Illustration: MISSION SANTA CRUZ.]

[Illustration]

[Illustration: RUINED WALLS OF MISSION LA SOLEDAD.]

The corner-stone of the church was laid February 27,
1793, and was completed and formally dedicated May
10, 1794, by Padre Pena from Santa Clara, aided by
five other priests. Ensign Sal was present as
godfather, and duly received the keys. The neophytes,
servants, and troops looked on at the ceremonies with
unusual interest, and the next day filled the church
at the saying of the first mass. The church was
about thirty by one hundred and twelve feet and twenty-five
feet high. The foundation walls to the height
of three feet were of stone, the front was of masonry,
and the rest of adobes. The other buildings were
slowly erected, and in the autumn of 1796 a flouring-mill
was built and running. It was sadly damaged,
however, by the December rains. Artisans were
sent to build the mill and instruct the natives, and
later a smith and a miller were sent to start it.

In 1798 the padre wrote very discouragingly.
The establishment of the villa or town of Brancifort,
across the river, was not pleasing. A hundred
and thirty-eight neophytes also had deserted, ninety
of whom were afterwards brought in by Corporal Mesa.
It had long been the intention of the government to
found more pueblos or towns, as well as Missions in
California, the former for the purpose of properly
colonizing the country. Governor Borica made some
personal explorations, and of three suggested sites
finally chose that just across the river Lorenzo from
Santa Cruz. May 12, 1797, certain settlers who
had been recruited in Guadalajara arrived in a pitiable
condition at Monterey; and soon thereafter they were
sent to the new site under the direction of Comisionado
Moraga, who was authorized to erect temporary shelters
for them. August 12 the superintendent of the
formal foundation, Cordoba, had all the surveying
accomplished, part of an irrigating canal dug, and
temporary houses partially erected. In August,
after the viceroy had seen the estimated cost of the
establishment, further progress was arrested by want
of funds. Before the end of the century everybody
concerned had come to the conclusion that the villa
of Brancifort was a great blunder,—­the
“settlers are a scandal to the country by their
immorality. They detest their exile, and render
no service.”

In the meantime the Mission authorities protested
vigorously against the new settlement. It was
located on the pasture grounds of the Indians; the
laws allowed the Missions a league in every direction,
and trouble would surely result. But the governor
retorted, defending his choice of a site, and claiming
that the neophytes were dying off, there were no more
pagans to convert, and the neophytes already had more
land and raised more grain than they could attend
to.

In 1805 Captain Goycoechea recommended that as there
were no more gentiles, the neophytes be divided between
the Missions of Santa Clara and San Juan, and the
missionaries sent to new fields. Of course nothing
came of this.

Page 82

In the decade 1820-1830 population declined rapidly,
though in live-stock the Mission about held its own,
and in agriculture actually increased. In 1823,
however, there was another attempt to suppress it,
and this doubtless came from the conflicts between
the villa of Brancifort and the Mission. The
effort, like the former one, was unsuccessful.

In 1834-1835 Ignacio del Valle acted as comisionado,
and put in effect the order of secularization.
His valuation of the property was $47,000, exclusive
of land and church property, besides $10,000 distributed
to the Indians. There were no subsequent distributions,
yet the property disappeared, for, in 1839, when Visitador
Hartwell went to Santa Cruz, he found only about one-sixth
of the live-stock of the inventory of four years before.
The neophytes were organized into a pueblo named Figueroa
after the governor; but it was a mere organization
in name, and the condition of the ex-Mission was no
different from that of any of the others.

The statistics for the whole period of the Mission’s
existence, 1791-1834, are: baptisms, 2466; marriages,
847; deaths, 2035. The largest population was
644 in 1798. The largest number of cattle was
3700 in 1828; horses, 900, in the same year; mules,
92, in 1805; sheep, 8300, in 1826.

In January, 1840, the tower fell, and a number of
tiles were carried off, a kind of premonition of the
final disaster of 1851, when the walls fell, and treasure
seekers completed the work of demolition.

The community of the Mission was completely broken
up in 1841-1842, everything being regarded, henceforth,
as part of Brancifort. In 1845 the lands, buildings,
and fruit trees of the ex-Mission were valued at less
than $1000, and only about forty Indians were known
to remain. The Mission has now entirely disappeared.

CHAPTER XXII

LA SOLEDAD

The Mission of “Our Lady of Solitude”
has only a brief record in written history; but the
little that is known and the present condition of the
ruins suggest much that has never been recorded.

Early in 1791 Padre Lasuen, who was searching for
suitable locations for two new Missions, arrived at
a point midway between San Antonio and Santa Clara.
With quick perception he recognized the advantages
of Soledad, known to the Indians as Chuttusgelis.
The name of this region, bestowed by Crespi years
previous, was suggestive of its solitude and dreariness;
but the wide, vacant fields indicated good pasturage
in seasons favored with much rain, and the possibility
of securing water for irrigation promised crops from
the arid lands. Lasuen immediately selected the
most advantageous site for the new Mission, but several
months elapsed before circumstances permitted the erection
of the first rude structures.

On October ninth the Mission was finally established.

Page 83

There were comparatively few Indians in that immediate
region, and only eleven converts were reported as
the result of the efforts of the first year.
There was ample room for flocks and herds, and although
the soil was not of the best and much irrigation was
necessary to produce good crops, the padres with their
persistent labors gradually increased their possessions
and the number of their neophytes. At the close
of the ninth year there were 512 Indians living at
the Mission, and their property included a thousand
cattle, several thousand sheep, and a good supply of
horses. Five years later (in 1805) there were
727 neophytes, in spite of the fact that a severe
epidemic a few years previously had reduced their
numbers and caused many to flee from the Mission in
fear. A new church was begun in 1808.

On July 24, 1814, Governor Arrillaga, who had been
taken seriously ill while on a tour of inspection,
and had hurried to Soledad to be under the care of
his old friend, Padre Ibanez, died there, and was buried,
July 26, under the center of the church.

For about forty years priests and natives lived a
quiet, peaceful life in this secluded valley, with
an abundance of food and comfortable shelter.
That they were blessed with plenty and prosperity is
evidenced by the record that in 1829 they furnished
$1150 to the Monterey presidio. At one time they
possessed over six thousand cattle; and in 1821 the
number of cattle, sheep, horses, and other animals
was estimated at over sixteen thousand.

[Illustration: ANOTHER VIEW OF THE WALLS OF MISSION
LA SOLEDAD.]

[Illustration: MISSION SAN JOSE. SOON AFTER
THE DECREE OF SECULARIZATION. From an old print.]

[Illustration: FIGURE OF CHRIST, MISSION SAN
JOSE ORPHANAGE.]

After the changes brought about by political administration
the number of Indians rapidly decreased, and the property
acquired by their united toil quickly dwindled away,
until little was left but poverty and suffering.

At the time secularization was effected in 1835, according
to the inventory made, the estate, aside from church
property, was valued at $36,000. Six years after
secular authorities took charge only about 70 Indians
remained, with 45 cattle, 25 horses, and 865 sheep,—­and
a large debt had been incurred. On June 4, 1846,
the Soledad Mission was sold to Feliciano Soveranes
for $800.

One of the pitiful cases that occurred during the
decline of the Missions was the death of Padre Sarria,
which took place at Soledad in 1835, or, as some authorities
state, in 1838. This venerable priest had been
very prominent in missionary labors, having occupied
the position of Comisario Prefecto during many
years. He was also the presidente for several
years. As a loyal Spaniard he declined to take
the oath of allegiance to the Mexican Republic, and
was nominally under arrest for about five years, or
subject to exile; but so greatly was he revered and

Page 84

trusted as a man of integrity and as a business manager
of great ability that the order of exile was never
enforced. The last years of his life were spent
at the Mission of Our Lady of Solitude. When devastation
began and the temporal prosperity of the Mission quickly
declined, this faithful pastor of a fast thinning
flock refused to leave the few poverty-stricken Indians
who still sought to prolong life in their old home.
One Sunday morning, while saying mass in the little
church, the enfeebled and aged padre fell before the
altar and immediately expired. As it had been
reported that he was “leading a hermit’s
life and destitute of means,” it was commonly
believed that this worthy and devoted missionary was
exhausted from lack of proper food, and in reality
died of starvation.

There were still a few Indians at Soledad in 1850,
their scattered huts being all that remained of the
once large rancherias that existed here.

The ruins of Soledad are about four miles from the
station of the Southern Pacific of that name.
The church itself is at the southwest corner of a
mass of ruins. These are all of adobe, though
the foundations are of rough rock. Flint pebbles
have been mixed with the adobe of the church walls.
They were originally about three feet thick, and plastered.
A little of the plaster still remains.

In 1904 there was but one circular arch remaining
in all the ruins; everything else had fallen in.
The roof fell in thirty years ago. At the eastern
end, where the arch is, there are three or four rotten
beams still in place; and on the south side of the
ruins, where one line of corridors ran, a few poles
still remain. Heaps of ruined tiles lie here
and there, just as they fell when the supporting poles
rotted and gave way.

It is claimed by the Soberanes family in Soledad that
the present ruins of the church are of the building
erected about 1850 by their grandfather. The
family lived in a house just southwest of the Mission,
and there this grandfather was born. He was baptized,
confirmed, and married in the old church, and when,
after secularization, the Mission property was offered
for sale, he purchased it. As the church—­in
the years of pitiful struggle for possession, of its
temporalities—­had been allowed to go to
ruin, this true son of the Church erected the building,
the ruins of which now bring sadness to the hearts
of all who care for the Missions.

CHAPTER XXIII

SAN JOSE DE GUADALUPE

There was a period of rest after the founding of Santa
Cruz and La Soledad. Padre Presidente Lasuen
was making ready for a new and great effort.
Hitherto the Mission establishments had been isolated
units of civilization, each one alone in its work
save for the occasional visits of governor, inspector,
or presidente. Now they were to be linked together,
by the founding of intermediate Missions, into one
great chain, near enough for mutual help and encouragement,

Page 85

the boundary of one practically the boundary of the
next one, both north and south. The two new foundations
of Santa Cruz and Soledad were a step in this direction,
but now the plan was to be completed. With the
viceroy’s approval, Governor Borica authorized
Lasuen to have the regions between the old Missions
carefully explored for new sites. Accordingly
the padres and their guards were sent out, and simultaneously
such a work of investigation began as was never before
known. Reports were sent in, and finally, after
a careful study of the whole situation, it was concluded
that five new Missions could be established and a great
annual saving thereby made in future yearly expenses.
Governor Borica’s idea was that the new Missions
would convert all the gentile Indians west of the Coast
Range. This done, the guards could be reduced
at an annual saving of $15,000. This showing
pleased the viceroy, and he agreed to provide the
$1000 needed for each new establishment on the condition
that no added military force be called for. The
guardian of San Fernando College was so notified August
19, 1796; and on September 29 he in turn announced
to the viceroy that the required ten missionaries
were ready, but begged that no reduction be made in
the guards at the Missions already established.
Lasuen felt that it would create large demands upon
the old Missions to found so many new ones all at
once, as they must help with cattle, horses, sheep,
neophyte laborers, etc.; yet, to obtain the Missions,
he was willing to do his very best, and felt sure his
brave associates would further his efforts in every
possible way. Thus it was that San Jose was founded,
as before related, on June 11, 1797. The same
day all returned to Santa Clara, and five days elapsed
ere the guards and laborers were sent to begin work.
Timbers were cut and water brought to the location,
and soon the temporary buildings were ready for occupancy.
By the end of the year there were 33 converts, and
in 1800, 286. A wooden structure with a grass
roof served as a church.

In 1809, April 23, the new church was completed, and
Presidente Tapis came and blessed it. The following
day he preached, and Padre Arroyo de la Cuesta said
mass before a large congregation, including other
priests, several of the military, and people from the
pueblo and Santa Clara, and various neophytes.
The following July the cemetery was blessed with the
usual solemnities.

In 1811 Padre Fortuni accompanied Padre Abella on
a journey of exploration to the Sacramento and San
Joaquin valleys. They were gone fifteen days,
found the Indians very timid, and thought the shores
of the Sacramento offered a favorable site for a new
Mission.

In 1817 Sergeant Soto, with one hundred San Jose neophytes,
met twelve soldiers from San Francisco, and proceeded,
by boat, to pursue some fugitives. They went
up a river, possibly the San Joaquin, to a marshy
island where, according to Soto’s report, a thousand
hostiles were assembled, who immediately fell upon
their pursuers and fought them for three hours.
So desperately did they fight, relying upon their superior
numbers, that Soto was doubtful as to the result; but
eventually they broke and fled, swimming to places
of safety, leaving many dead and wounded but no captives.
Only one neophyte warrior was killed.

Page 86

In 1820 San Jose reported a population of 1754, with
6859 large stock, 859 horses, etc., and 12,000
sheep.

For twenty-seven years Padre Duran, who from 1825
to 1827 was also the padre presidente, served Mission
San Jose. In 1824 it reached its maximum of population
in 1806 souls. In everything it was prosperous,
standing fourth on the list both as to crops and herds.

Owing to its situation, being the first Mission reached
by trappers, etc., from the east, and also being
the nearest to the valleys of the Sacramento and San
Joaquin, which afforded good retreats for fugitives,
San Jose had an exciting history. In 1826 there
was an expedition against the Cosumnes, in which forty
Indians were killed, a rancheria destroyed, and forty
captives taken. In 1829 the famous campaign against
Estanislas, who has given his name to both a river
and county, took place. This Indian was a neophyte
of San Jose, and being of more than usual ability
and smartness, was made alcalde. In 1827 or early
in 1828 he ran away, and with a companion, Cipriano,
and a large following, soon made himself the terror
of the rancheros of the neighborhood. One expedition
sent against him resulted disastrously, owing to insufficient
equipment, so a determined effort under M.G. Vallejo,
who was now the commander-in-chief of the whole California
army, was made. May 29 he and his forces crossed
the San Joaquin River on rafts, and arrived the next
day at the scene of the former battle. With taunts,
yells of defiance, and a shower of arrows, Estanislas
met the coming army, he and his forces hidden in the
fancied security of an impenetrable forest. Vallejo
at once set men to work in different directions to
fire the wood, which brought some of the Indians to
the edge, where they were slain. As evening came
on, twenty-five men and an officer entered the wood
and fought until dusk, retiring with three men wounded.
Next morning Vallejo, with thirty-seven soldiers,
entered the wood, where he found pits, ditches, and
barricades arranged with considerable skill.
Nothing but fire could have dislodged the enemy.
They had fled under cover of night. Vallejo set
off in pursuit, and when, two days later, he surrounded
them, they declared they would die rather than surrender.
A road was cut through chaparral with axes, along
which the field-piece and muskets were pressed forward
and discharged. The Indians retreated slowly,
wounding eight soldiers. When the cannon was close
to the enemies’ intrenchments the ammunition
gave out, and this fact and the heat of the burning
thicket compelled retreat. During the night the
Indians endeavored to escape, one by one, but most
of them were killed by the watchful guards. The
next day nothing but the dead and three living women
were found. There were some accusations, later,
that Vallejo summarily executed some captives; but
he denied it, and claimed that the only justification
for any such charge arose from the fact that one man
and one woman had been killed, the latter wrongfully
by a soldier, whom he advised be punished.

Page 87

Up to the time of secularization, the Mission continued
to be one of the most prosperous. Jesus Vallejo
was the administrator for secularization, and in 1837
he and Padre Gonzalez Rubio made an inventory which
gave a total of over $155,000, when all debts were
paid. Even now for awhile it seemed to prosper,
and not until 1840 did the decline set in.

In accordance with Micheltorena’s decree of
March 29, 1843, San Jose was restored to the temporal
control of the padres, who entered with good-will
and zest into the labor of saving what they could out
of the wreck. Under Pico’s decree of 1845
the Mission was inventoried, but the document cannot
now be found, nor a copy of it. The population
was reported as 400 in 1842, and it is supposed that
possibly 250 still lived at the Mission in 1845.
On May 5, 1846, Pico sold all the property to Andres
Pico and J.B. Alvarado for $12,000, but the sale
never went into effect.

Mission San Jose de Guadalupe and the pueblo of the
same name are not, as so many people, even residents
of California, think, one and the same. The pueblo
of San Jose is now the modern city of that name, the
home of the State Normal School, and the starting-point
for Mount Hamilton. But Mission San Jose is a
small settlement, nearly twenty miles east and north,
in the foothills overlooking the southeast end of
San Francisco Bay. The Mission church has entirely
disappeared, an earthquake in 1868 having completed
the ruin begun by the spoliation at the time of secularization.
A modern parish church has since been built upon the
site. Nothing of the original Mission now remains
except a portion of the monastery. The corridor
is without arches, and is plain and unpretentious,
the roof being composed of willows tied to the roughly
hewn log rafters with rawhide. Behind this is
a beautiful old alameda of olives, at the upper end
of which a modern orphanage, conducted by the Dominican
Sisters, has been erected. This avenue of olives
is crossed by another one at right angles, and both
were planted by the padres in the early days, as is
evidenced by the age of the trees. Doubtless
many a procession of Indian neophytes has walked up
and down here, even as I saw a procession of the orphans
and their white-garbed guardians a short time ago.
The surrounding garden is kept up in as good style
under the care of the sisters as it was in early days
by the padres.

The orphanage was erected in 1884 by Archbishop Alemany
as a seminary for young men who wished to study for
the priesthood, but it was never very successful in
this work. For awhile it remained empty, then
was offered to the Dominican Sisters as a boarding-school.
But as this undertaking did not pay, in 1891 Archbishop
Riordan offered such terms as led the Mother General
of the Dominican Sisters to purchase it as an orphanage,
and as such it is now most successfully conducted.
There are at the present time about eighty children
cared for by these sweet and gentle sisters of our
Lord.

Page 88

Two of the old Mission bells are hung in the new church.
On one of these is the inscription: “S.S.
Jose. Ano de 1826.” And on the upper
bell, “S.S. Joseph 1815, Ave Maria Purisima.”

The old Mission baptismal font is also still in use.
It is of hammered copper, about three feet in diameter,
surmounted by an iron cross about eight inches high.
The font stands upon a wooden base, painted, and is
about four feet high.

CHAPTER XXIV

SAN JUAN BAUTISTA

The second of the “filling up the links of the
chain” Missions was that of San Juan Bautista.
Three days after the commandant of San Francisco had
received his orders to furnish a guard for the founders
of Mission San Jose, the commandant of Monterey received
a like order for a guard for the founders of San Juan
Bautista. This consisted of five men and Corporal
Ballesteros. By June 17 this industrious officer
had erected a church, missionary-house, granary, and
guard-house, and a week later Lasuen, with the aid
of two priests, duly founded the new Mission.
The site was a good one, and by 1800 crops to the
extent of 2700 bushels were raised. At the same
time 516 neophytes were reported—­not bad
for two and a half years’ work.

In 1798 the gentiles from the mountains twenty-five
miles east of San Juan, the Ansayames, surrounded
the Mission by night, but were prevailed upon to retire.
Later some of the neophytes ran away and joined these
hostiles, and then a force was sent to capture the
runaways and administer punishment. In the ensuing
fight a chief was killed and another wounded, and
two gentiles brought in to be forcibly educated.
Other rancherias were visited, fifty fugitives arrested,
and a few floggings and many warnings given.

This did not prevent the Ansayames, however, from
killing two Mutsunes at San Benito Creek, burning
a house and some wheat-fields, and seriously threatening
the Mission. Moraga was sent against them and
captured eighteen hostiles and the chiefs of the hostile
rancherias.

Almost as bad as warlike Indians were the earthquakes
of that year, several in number, which cracked all
the adobe walls of the buildings and compelled everybody—­friars
and Indians—­to sleep out of doors for safety.

In 1803 the governor ordered the padres of San Juan
to remove their stock from La Brea rancho, which had
been granted to Mariano Castro. They refused
on the grounds that the rancho properly belonged to
the Mission and should not have been granted to Castro,
and on appeal the viceroy confirmed their contention.

In June of this year the corner-stone of a new church
was laid. Padre Viader conducted the ceremonies,
aided by the resident priests. Don Jose de la
Guerra was the sponsor, and Captain Font and Surgeon
Morelos assisted.

Page 89

In June, 1809, the image of San Juan was placed on
the high altar in the sacristy, which served for purposes
of worship until the completion of the church.

By the end of the decade the population had grown
to 702, though the number of deaths was large, and
it continued slowly to increase until in 1823 it reached
its greatest population with 1248 souls.

The new church was completed and dedicated on June
23, 1812. In 1818 a new altar was completed,
and a painter named Chavez demanded six reals a day
for decorating. As the Mission could not afford
this, a Yankee, known as Felipe Santiago—­properly
Thomas Doak—­undertook the work, aided by
the neophytes. In 1815 one of the ministers was
Esteban Tapis, who afterwards became the presidente.

In 1836 San Juan was the scene of the preparations
for hostility begun by Jose Castro and Alvarado against
Governor Gutierrez. Meetings were held at which
excited speeches were made advocating revolutionary
methods, and the fife and drum were soon heard by the
peaceful inhabitants of the old Mission. Many
of the whites joined in with Alvarado and Castro,
and the affair ultimated in the forced exile of the
governor; Castro took his place until Alvarado was
elected by the diputacion.

The regular statistics of San Juan cease in 1832,
when there were 916 Indians registered. In 1835,
according to the decree of secularization, 63 Indians
were “emancipated.” Possibly these
were the heads of families. Among these were
to be distributed land valued at $5120, live-stock,
including 41 horses, $1782, implements, effects, etc.,
$1467.

The summary of statistics from the founding of the
Mission in 1797 to 1834 shows 4100 baptisms, 1028
marriages, 3027 deaths. The largest number of
cattle owned was 11,000 in 1820, 1598 horses in 1806,
13,000 sheep in 1816.

In 1845, when Pico’s decree was issued, San
Juan was considered a pueblo, and orders given for
the sale of all property except a curate’s house,
the church, and a court-house. The inventory gave
a value of $8000. The population was now about
150, half of whom were whites and the other half Indians.

It will be remembered that it was at San Juan that
Castro organized his forces to repel what he considered
the invasion of Fremont in 1846. From Gavilan
heights, near by, the explorer looked down and saw
the warlike preparations directed against him, and
from there wrote his declaration: “I am
making myself as strong as possible, in the intention
that if we are unjustly attacked we will fight to
extremity and refuse quarter, trusting to our country
to avenge our death.”

In 1846 Pico sold all that remained of San Juan Bautista—­the
orchard—­to O. Deleisseques for a debt, and
though he did not obtain possession at the time, the
United States courts finally confirmed his claim.
This was the last act in the history of the once prosperous
Mission.

Page 90

The entrance at San Juan Bautista seems more like
that of a prison than a church. The Rev Valentin
Closa, of the Company of Jesus, who for many years
has had charge here, found that some visitors were
so irresponsible that thefts were of almost daily
occurrence. So he had a wooden barrier placed
across the church from wall to wall, and floor to
ceiling, through which a gate affords entrance, and
this gate is kept padlocked with as constant watchfulness
as is that of a prison. Passing this barrier,
the two objects that immediately catch one’s
eye are the semicircular arch dividing the church
from the altar and the old wooden pulpit on the left.

Of the modern bell-tower it can only be said that
it is a pity necessity seemed to compel the erection
of such an abortion. The old padres seldom, if
ever, failed in their architectural taste. However
one may criticise their lesser work, such as the decorations,
he is compelled to admire their large work;
they were right, powerful, and dignified in their
straightforward simplicity. And it is pathetic
that in later days, when workmen and money were scarce,
the modern priests did not see some way of overcoming
obstacles that would have been more harmonious with
the old plans than is evidenced by this tower and many
other similar incongruities, such as the steel bell-tower
at San Miguel.

[Illustration: DOORWAY, MISSION SAN JUAN BAUTISTA.]

[Illustration: STAIRWAY LEADING TO PULPIT, MISSION
SAN JUAN BAUTISTA.]

[Illustration: MISSION SAN MIGUEL ARCANGEL, FROM
THE SOUTH.]

[Illustration: MISSION SAN MIGUEL ARCANGEL AND
CORRIDORS.]

At San Juan Bautista the old reredos remains, though
the altar is new. The six figures of the saints
are the original ones placed there when it was first
erected. In the center, at the top, is Our Lady
of Guadalupe; to the left, San Antonio de Padua; to
the right, San Isadore de Madrid (the patron saint
of all farmers); below, in the center, is the saint
of the Mission, San Juan Bautista, on his left, St.
Francis, and on his right, San Buenaventura.

The baptistery is on the left, at the entrance.
Over its old, solid, heavy doors rises a half-circular
arch. Inside are two bowls of heavy sandstone.

In the belfry are two bells, one of which is modern,
cast in San Francisco. The other is the largest
Mission bell, I believe, in California. It bears
the inscription: “Ave Maria Purisima S.
Fernando RVELAS me Fecit 1809.”

There is a small collection of objects of interest
connected with the old Mission preserved in one room
of the monastery. Among other things are two
of the chorals; pieces of rawhide used for tying the
beams, etc., in the original construction; the
head of a bass-viol that used to be played by one
of the Indians; a small mortar; and quite a number
of books. Perhaps the strangest thing in the
whole collection is an old barrel-organ made by Benjamin

Page 91

Dobson, The Minories, London. It has several
barrels and on one of them is the following list of
its tunes: Go to the Devil; Spanish Waltz; College
Hornpipe; Lady Campbell’s Reel. One can
imagine with what feelings one of the sainted padres,
after a peculiarly trying day with his aboriginal
children, would put in this barrel, and while his
lips said holy things, his hand instinctively ground
out with vigor the first piece on the list.

CHAPTER XXV

SAN MIGUEL, ARCANGEL

Lasuen’s third Mission, of 1797, was San Miguel,
located near a large rancheria named Sagshpileel,
and on the site called Vahia. One reason
for the selection of the location is given in the fact
that there was plenty of water at Santa Isabel and
San Marcos for the irrigation of three hundred fanegas
of seed. To this day the springs of Santa Isabel
are a joy and delight to all who know them, and the
remains of the old irrigating canals and dams, dug
and built by the padres, are still to be seen.

On the day of the founding, Lasuen’s heart was
made glad by the presentation of fifteen children
for baptism. At the end of 1800 there were 362
neophytes, 372 horses and cattle, and 1582 smaller
animals. The crop of 1800 was 1900 bushels.

Padre Antonio de la Concepcion Horra, who was shortly
after deported as insane, and who gave Presidente
Lasuen considerable trouble by preferring serious
charges against the Missions, was one of the first
ministers.

In February of 1801 the two padres were attacked with
violent pains in the stomach and they feared the neophytes
had poisoned them, but they soon recovered. Padre
Pujol, who came from Monterey to aid them, did not
fare so well for he was taken sick in a similar manner
and died. Three Indians were arrested, but it
was never decided whether poison had been used or
not. The Indians escaped when being taken north
to the presidio, and eventually the padres pleaded
for their release, asking however that they be flogged
in the presence of their families for having boasted
that they had poisoned the padres.

In August, 1806, a disastrous fire occurred, destroying
all the manufacturing part of the establishment as
well as a large quantity of wool, hides, cloth, and
6000 bushels of wheat. The roof of the church
was also partially burned. At the end of the decade
San Miguel had a population of 973, and in the number
of its sheep it was excelled only by San Juan Capistrano.

In 1818 a new church was reported as ready for roofing,
and this was possibly built to replace the one partially
destroyed by fire in 1806. In 1814 the Mission
registered its largest population in 1076 neophytes,
and in live-stock it showed satisfactory increase at
the end of the decade, though in agriculture it had
not been so successful.

Ten years later it had to report a great diminution
in its flocks and herds and its neophytes. The
soil and pasture were also found to be poor, though
vines flourished and timber was plentiful. Robinson,
who visited San Miguel at this time, reports it as
a poor establishment and tells a large story about
the heat suffocating the fleas. Padre Martin
died in 1824.

Page 92

In 1834 there were but 599 neophytes on the register.
In 1836 Ignacio Coronel took charge in order to carry
out the order of secularization, and when the inventory
was made it showed the existence of property, excluding
everything pertaining to the church, of $82,000.
In 1839 this amount was reduced to $75,000. This
large valuation was owing to the fact that there were
several ranches and buildings and two large vineyards
belonging to the Mission. These latter were Santa
Isabel and Aguage, with 5500 vines, valued at $22,162.

The general statistics from the founding in 1797 to
1834 give 2588 baptisms, 2038 deaths; largest population
was 1076 in 1814. The largest number of cattle
was 10,558 in 1822, horses 1560 in 1822, mules 140
in 1817, sheep 14,000 in 1820.

In 1836 Padre Moreno reported that when Coronel came
all the available property was distributed among the
Indians, except the grain, and of that they carried
off more than half. In 1838 the poor padre complained
bitterly of his poverty and the disappearance of the
Mission property. There is no doubt but that
here as elsewhere the Mission was plundered on every
hand, and the officers appointed to guard its interests
were among the plunderers.

In 1844 Presidente Duran reported that San Miguel
had neither lands nor cattle, and that its neophytes
were demoralized and scattered for want of a minister.
Pico’s 1845 decree warned the Indians that they
must return within a month and occupy their lands,
or they would be disposed of; and in 1846 Pico reported
the Mission sold, though no consideration is named,
to P. Rios and Wm. Reed. The purchasers took possession,
but the courts later declared their title invalid.
In 1848 Reed and his whole family were atrociously
murdered. The murderers were pursued; one was
fatally wounded, one jumped into the sea and was drowned,
and the other three were caught and executed.

The register of baptisms at San Miguel begins July
25, 1797, and up to 1861 contains 2917 names.
Between the years 1844 and 1851 there is a vacancy,
and only one name occurs in the latter year. The
title-page is signed by Fr. Fermin Franco de Lasuen,
and the priests in charge are named as Fr. Buenaventura
Sitjar and Fr. Antonio de la Conception.

At the end of this book is a list of 43 children of
the “gentes de razon” included in the
general list, but here specialized for reference.

The registry of deaths contains 2249 names up to 1841.
The first entry is signed by Fr. Juan Martin and the
next two by Fr. Sitjar.

The old marriage register of the Mission of San Miguel
is now at San Luis Obispo. It has a title-page
signed by Fr. Lasuen.

In 1888 some of the old bells of the Mission were
sent to San Francisco and there were recast into one
large bell, weighing 2500 pounds. Until 1902
this stood on a rude wooden tower in front of the church,
but in that year an incongruous steel tower took its
place. Packed away in a box still remains one
of the old bells, which has sounded its last call.
A large hole is in one side of it. The inscription,
as near as I can make out, reads “A. D.
1800, S.S. Gabriel.”

Page 93

In 1901 the outside of the church and monastery was
restored with a coat of new plaster and cement.
Inside nearly everything is as it was left by the
robber hand of secularization.

On the walls are the ten oil paintings brought by
the original founders. They are very indistinct
in the dim light of the church, and little can be
said of their artistic value without further examination.

There is also an old breviary with two heavy, hand-made
clasps, dated Antwerp, 1735, and containing the autograph
of Fr. Man. de Castaneda.

There is a quadrangle at San Miguel 230 feet square,
and on one side of it a corridor corresponding to
the one in front, for six pillars of burnt brick still
remain.

At the rear of the church was the original church,
used before the present one was built, and a number
of remains of the old houses of the neophytes still
stand, though in a very dilapidated condition.

San Miguel was always noted for its proximity to the
Hot Springs and Sulphur Mud Baths of Paso Robles.
Both Indians and Mission padres knew of their healthful
and curative properties, and in the early days scores
of thousands enjoyed their peculiar virtues. Little
by little the “superior race” is learning
that in natural therapeutics the Indian is a reasonably
safe guide to follow; hence the present extensive use
by the whites of the Mud and Sulphur Baths at Paso
Robles. Methinks the Indians of a century ago,
though doubtless astonished at the wonderful temple
to the white man’s God built at San Miguel,
would wonder much more were they now to see the elaborate
and splendid house recently erected at Paso Robles
for the purpose of giving to more white people the
baths, the virtue of which they so well knew.

[Illustration: SEEKING TO PREVENT THE PHOTOGRAPHER
FROM MAKING A PICTURE OF MISSION SAN MIGUEL ARCANGEL.]

[Illustration: OLD PULPIT AT MISSION SAN MIGUEL
ARCANGEL.]

[Illustration: RESTORED MONASTERY AND MISSION
CHURCH OF SAN FERNANDO REY.]

[Illustration: CORRIDORS AT SAN FERNANDO REY.]

CHAPTER XXVI

SAN FERNANDO, REY DE ESPAGNA

On September 8, 1797, the seventeenth of the California
Missions was founded by Padre Lasuen, in the Encino
Valley, where Francisco Reyes had a rancho in the
Los Angeles jurisdiction. The natives called it
Achois Comihavit. Reyes’ house was
appropriated as a temporary dwelling for the missionary.
The Mission was dedicated to Fernando III, King of
Spain. Lasuen came down from San Miguel to Santa
Barbara, especially for the foundation, and from thence
with Sergeant Olivera and a military escort.
These, with Padre Francisco Dumetz, the priest chosen
to have charge, and his assistant, Francisco Favier
Uria, composed, with the large concourse of Indians,
the witnesses of the solemn ceremonial.

On the fourth of October Olivera reported the guard-house
and storehouse finished, two houses begun, and preparations
already being made for the church.

Page 94

From the baptismal register it is seen that ten children
were baptized the first day, and thirteen adults were
received early in October. By the end of 1797
there were fifty-five neophytes.

Three years after its founding 310 Indians were gathered
in, and its year’s crop was 1000 bushels of
grain. The Missions of San Juan Capistrano, San
Gabriel, San Buenaventura, and Santa Barbara had contributed
live-stock, and now its herds had grown to 526 horses,
mules, and cattle, and 600 sheep.

In December, 1806, an adobe church, with a tile roof,
was consecrated, which on the 21st of December, 1812,
was severely injured by the earthquake that did damage
to almost all the Missions of the chain. Thirty
new beams were needed to support the injured walls.
A new chapel was built, which was completed in 1818.

In 1834 Lieutenant Antonio del Valle was the comisionado
appointed to secularize the Mission, and the next
year he became majordomo and served until 1837.

It was on his journey north, in 1842, to take hold
of the governorship, that Micheltorena learned at
San Fernando of Commodore Jones’s raising of
the American flag at Monterey. By his decree,
also, in 1843, San Fernando was ordered returned to
the control of the padres, which was done, though
the next year Duran reported that there were but few
cattle left, and two vineyards.

Micheltorena was destined again to appear at San Fernando,
for when the Californians under Pio Pico and Castro
rose to drive out the Mexicans, the governor finally
capitulated at the same place, as he had heard the
bad news of the Americans’ capture of Monterey.
February 21, 1845, after a bloodless “battle”
at Cahuenga, he “abdicated,” and finally
left the country and returned to Mexico.

In 1845 Juan Manso and Andres Pico leased the Mission
at a rental of $1120, the affairs having been fairly
well administered by Padre Orday after its return
to the control of the friars. A year later it
was sold by Pio Pico, under the order of the assembly,
for $14,000, to Eulogio Celis, whose title was afterwards
confirmed by the courts. Orday remained as pastor
until May, 1847, and was San Fernando’s last
minister under the Franciscans.

In 1847 San Fernando again heard the alarm of war.
Fremont and his battalion reached here in January,
and remained until the signing of the treaty of Cahuenga,
which closed all serious hostilities against the United
States in its conquest of California.

Connected with the Mission of San Fernando is the
first discovery of California gold. Eight years
before the great days of ’49 Francisco Lopez,
the mayordomo of the Mission, was in the canyon
of San Feliciano, which is about eight miles westerly
from the present town of Newhall, and according to
Don Abel Stearns, “with a companion, while in
search of some stray horses, about midday stopped under
some trees and tied their horses to feed. While
resting in the shade, Lopez with his sheath knife
dug up some wild onions, and in the dirt discovered
a piece of gold. Searching further, he found
more. On his return to town he showed these pieces
to his friends, who at once declared there must be
a placer of gold there.”

Page 95

Then the rush began. As soon as the people in
Los Angeles and Santa Barbara heard of it, they flocked
to the new “gold fields” in hundreds.
And the first California gold dust ever coined at the
government mint at Philadelphia came from these mines.
It was taken around Cape Horn in a sailing-vessel
by Alfred Robinson, the translator of Boscana’s
Indians of California, and consisted of 18.34
ounces, and made $344.75, or over $19 to the ounce.

Davis says that in the first two years after the discovery
not less than from $80,000 to $100,000 was gathered.
Don Antonio Coronel, with three Indian laborers, in
1842, took out $600 worth of dust in two months.

Water being scarce, the methods of washing the gravel
were both crude and wasteful. And it is interesting
to note that the first gold “pans” were
bateas, or bowl-shaped Indian baskets.

The church at San Fernando is in a completely ruined
condition. It stands southwest to northeast.
The entrance is at the southwest end and the altar
at the northeast. There is also a side entrance
at the east, with a half-circular arch, sloping into
a larger arch inside, with a flat top and rounded
upper corners. The thickness of the walls allows
the working out of various styles in these outer and
inner arches that is curious and interesting.
They reveal the individuality of the builder, and
as they are all structural and pleasing, they afford
a wonderful example of variety in adapting the arch
to its necessary functions.

[Illustration: SHEEP AT MISSION SAN FERNANDO
REY.]

[Illustration: RUINS OF OLD ADOBE WALL AND CHURCH,
MISSION SAN FERNANDO REY.]

[Illustration: MONASTERY AND OLD FOUNTAIN AT
MISSION SAN FERNANDO REY.]

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF RUINED CHURCH, MISSION
SAN FERNANDO REY.]

The graveyard is on the northwest side of the church,
and close by is the old olive orchard, where a number
of fine trees are still growing. There are also
two large palms, pictures of which are generally taken
with the Mission in the background, and the mountains
beyond. It is an exquisite subject. The
remains of adobe walls still surround the orchard.

The doorway leading to the graveyard is of a half-circle
inside, and slopes outward, where the arch is square.

There is a buttress of burnt brick to the southeast
of the church, which appears as if it might have been
an addition after the earthquake.

At the monastery the chief entrance is a simple but
effective arched doorway, now plastered and whitewashed.
The double door frame projects pilaster-like, with
a four-membered cornice above, from which rises an
elliptical arch, with an elliptical cornice about a
foot above.

From this monastery one looks out upon a court or
plaza which is literally dotted with ruins, though
they are mainly of surrounding walls. Immediately
in the foreground is a fountain, the reservoir of
which is built of brick covered with cement. A
double bowl rests on the center standard.

Page 96

Further away in the court are the remnants of what
may have been another fountain, the reservoir of which
is made of brick, built into a singular geometrical
figure. This is composed of eight semicircles,
with V’s connecting them, the apex of each V
being on the outside. It appears like an attempt
at creating a conventionalized flower in brick.

Two hundred yards or so away from the monastery is
a square structure, the outside of boulders.
Curiosity prompting, you climb up, and on looking
in you find that inside this framework of boulders
are two circular cisterns of brick, fully six feet
in diameter across the top, decreasing in size to
the bottom, which is perhaps four feet in diameter.

In March, 1905, considerable excitement was caused
by the actions of the parish priest of San Fernando,
a Frenchman named Le Bellegny, of venerable appearance
and gentle manners. Not being acquainted with
the status quo of the old Mission, he exhumed
the bodies of the Franciscan friars who had been buried
in the church and reburied them. He removed the
baptismal font to his church, and unroofed some of
the old buildings and took the tiles and timbers away.
As soon as he understood the matter he ceased his
operations, but, unfortunately, not before considerable
damage was done.

CHAPTER XXVII

SAN LUIS, REY DE FRANCIA

The last Mission of the century, the last of Lasuen’s
administration, and the last south of Santa Barbara,
was that of San Luis Rey. Lasuen himself explored
the region and determined the site. The governor
agreed to it, and on February 27, 1798, ordered a
guard to be furnished from San Diego who should obey
Lasuen implicitly and help erect the necessary buildings
for the new Mission. The founding took place on
June 13, in the presence of Captain Grajera and his
guard, a few San Juan neophytes, and many gentiles,
Presidente Lasuen performing the ceremonies, aided
by Padres Peyri and Santiago. Fifty-four children
were baptized at the same time, and from the very
start the Mission was prosperous. No other missionary
has left such a record as Padre Peyri. He was
zealous, sensible, and energetic. He knew what
he wanted and how to secure it. The Indians worked
willingly for him, and by the 1st of July six thousand
adobes were made for the church. By the end of
1800 there were 237 neophytes, 617 larger stock, and
1600 sheep.

The new church was completed in 1801-1802, but Peyri
was too energetic to stop at this. Buildings
of all kinds were erected, and neophytes gathered
in so that by 1810 its population was 1519, with the
smallest death rate of any Mission. In 1811 Peyri
petitioned the governor to allow him to build a new
and better church of adobes and bricks; but as consent
was not forthcoming, he went out to Pala, and in 1816
established a branch establishment, built a church,
and the picturesque campanile now known all over the
world, and soon had a thousand converts tilling the
soil and attending the services of the church.

Page 97

In 1826 San Luis Rey reached its maximum in population
with 2869 neophytes. From now on began its decline,
though in material prosperity it was far ahead of
any other Mission. In 1828 it had 28,900 sheep,
and the cattle were also rapidly increasing.
The average crop of grain was 12,660 bushels.

San Luis Rey was one of the Missions where a large
number of cattle were slaughtered on account of the
secularization decree. It is said that some 20,000
head were killed at the San Jacinto Rancho alone.
The Indians were much stirred up over the granting
of the ranches, which they claimed were their own
lands. Indeed they formed a plot to capture the
governor on one of his southern trips in order to protest
to him against the granting of the Temecula Rancho.

[Illustration: HOUSE OF MEXICAN, MADE FROM RUINED
WALL AND HILLS OF MISSION SAN FERNANDO REY.]

The final secularization took place in November, 1834,
with Captain Portilla as comisionado and Pio Pico
as majordomo and administrator until 1840. There
was trouble in apportioning the lands among the Indians,
for Portilla called for fifteen or twenty men to aid
him in quelling disturbances; and at Pala the majordomo
was knocked down and left for dead by an Indian.
The inventory showed property (including the church,
valued at $30,000) worth $203,707, with debts of $93,000.
The six ranches were included as worth $40,437, the
three most valuable being Pala, Santa Margarita, and
San Jacinto.

Micheltorena’s decree of 1843 restored San Luis
Rey to priestly control, but by that time its spoliation
was nearly complete. Padre Zalvidea was in his
dotage, and the four hundred Indians had scarcely anything
left to them. Two years later the majordomo,
appointed by Zalvidea to act for him, turned over
the property to his successor, and the inventory shows
the frightful wreckage. Of all the vast herds
and flocks, only 279 horses, 20 mules, 61 asses, 196
cattle, 27 yoke oxen, 700 sheep, and a few valueless
implements remained. All the ranches had passed
into private ownership.

May 18, 1846, all that remained of the former king
of Missions was sold by Pio Pico to Cot and Jose Pico
for $2437. Fremont dispossessed their agent and
they failed to gain repossession, the courts deciding
that Pico had no right to sell. In 1847 the celebrated
Mormon battalion, which Parkman so vividly describes
in his Oregon Trail, were stationed at San
Luis Rey for two months, and later on, a re-enlisted
company was sent to take charge of it for a short time.
On their departure Captain Hunter, as sub-Indian agent,
took charge and found a large number of Indians, amenable
to discipline and good workers.

The general statistics from the founding in 1798 to
1834 show 5591 baptisms, 1425 marriages, 2859 deaths.
In 1832 there were 27,500 cattle, 2226 horses in 1828,
345 mules in the same year, 28,913 sheep in 1828,
and 1300 goats in 1832.

Page 98

In 1892 Father J.J. O’Keefe, who had done
excellent work at Santa Barbara, was sent to San Luis
Rey to repair the church and make it suitable for
a missionary college of the Franciscan Order.
May 12, 1893, the rededication ceremonies of the restored
building took place, the bishop of the diocese, the
vicar-general of the Franciscan Order and other dignitaries
being present and aiding in the solemnities. Three
old Indian women were also there who heard the mass
said at the original dedication of the church in 1802.
Since that time Father O’Keefe has raised and
expended thousands of dollars in repairing, always
keeping in mind the original plans. He also rebuilt
the monastery.

San Luis Rey is now a college for the training of
missionaries for the field, and its work is in charge
of Father Peter Wallischeck, who was for so many years
identified with the College of the Franciscans at
Santa Barbara.

Immediately on entering the church one observes doorways
to the right and left—­the one on the right
bricked up. It is the door that used to lead
to the stairway of the bell-tower. In 1913 the
doorway was opened. The whole tower was found
to be filled with adobe earth, why, no one really
knows, though it is supposed it may have been to preserve
the structure from falling in case of an earthquake.

A semicircular arch spans the whole church from side
to side, about thirty feet, on which the original
decorations still remain. These are in rude imitation
of marble, as at Santa Barbara, in black and red, with
bluish green lines. The wall colorings below are
in imitation of black marble.

The choir gallery is over the main entrance, and there
a great revolving music-stand is still in use, with
several of the large and interesting illuminated manuscript
singing-books of the early days. In Mission days
it was generally the custom to have two chanters, who
took care of the singing and the books. These,
with all the other singers, stood around the revolving
music-stand, on which the large manuscript chorals
were placed.

The old Byzantine pulpit still occupies its original
position at San Luis Rey, but the sounding-board is
gone—­no one knows whither. This is
of a type commonly found in Continental churches, the
corbel with its conical sides harmonizing with the
ten panels and base-mouldings of the box proper.
It is fastened to the pilaster which supports the
arch above.

The original paint—­a little of it—­still
remains. It appears to have been white on the
panels, lined in red and blue.

The pulpit was entered from the side altar, through
a doorway pierced through the wall. The steps
leading up to it are of red burnt brick. Evidently
it was a home product, and was possibly made by one
of Padre Peyri’s Indian carpenters, who was
rapidly nearing graduation into the ranks of the skilled
cabinet-makers.

Page 99

The Mortuary Chapel is perhaps as fine a piece of
work as any in the whole Mission chain. It is
beautiful even now in its sad dilapidation. It
was crowned with a domed roof of heavy cement.
The entrance was by the door in the church to the
right of the main entrance. The room is octagonal,
with the altar in a recess, over which is a dome of
brick, with a small lantern. At each point of
the octagon there is an engaged column, built of circular-fronted
brick which run to a point at the rear and are thus
built into the wall. A three-membered cornice
crowns each column, which supports arches that reach
from one column to another. There are two windows,
one to the southeast, the other northwest. The
altar is at the northeast. There are two doorways,
with stairways which lead to a small outlook over
the altar and the whole interior. These were
for the watchers of the dead, so that at a glance they
might see that nothing was disturbed.

The altar and its recess are most interesting, the
rear wall of the former being decorated in classic
design.

This chapel is of the third order of St. Francis,
the founder of the Franciscan Order. In the oval
space over the arch which spans the entrance to the
altar are the “arms” of the third order,
consisting of the Cross and the five wounds (the stigmata)
of Christ, which were conferred upon St. Francis as
a special sign of divine favor.

Father Wallischeck is now (1913) arranging for the
complete restoration of this beautiful little chapel
and appeals for funds to aid in the work.

CHAPTER XXVIII

SANTA INES

“Beautiful for situation” was the spot
selected for the only Mission founded during the first
decade of the nineteenth century,—­Santa
Ines.

Governor Borica, who called California “the
most peaceful and quiet country on earth,” and
under whose orders Padre Lasuen had established the
five Missions of 1796-1797, had himself made explorations
in the scenic mountainous regions of the coast, and
recommended the location afterwards determined upon,
called by the Indians Alajulapu, meaning rincon,
or corner.

The native population was reported to number over
a thousand, and the fact that they were frequently
engaged in petty hostilities among themselves rendered
it necessary to employ unusual care in initiating
the new enterprise. Presidente Tapis therefore
asked the governor for a larger guard than was generally
assigned for protecting the Missions, and a sergeant
and nine men were ordered for that purpose.

Page 100

The distance from Santa Barbara was about thirty-five
miles, over a rough road, hardly more than a trail,
winding in and out among the foothills, and gradually
climbing up into the mountains in the midst of most
charming and romantic scenery. The quaint procession,
consisting of Padre Presidente Tapis and three other
priests, Commandant Carrillo, and the soldiers, and
a large number of neophytes from Santa Barbara, slowly
marched over this mountainous road, into the woody
recesses where nestled the future home of the Mission
of Santa Ines, and where the usual ceremonies of foundation
took place September 17, 1804. Padres Calzada,
Gutierrez, and Cipres assisted Presidente Tapis, and
the two former remained as the missionaries in charge.

The first result of the founding of this Mission was
the immediate baptism of twenty-seven children, a
scene worthy of the canvas of a genius, could any
modern painter conceive of the real picture,—­the
group of dusky little ones with somber, wondering eyes,
and the long-gowned priests, with the soldiers on
guard and the watchful Indians in native costume in
the background,—­all in the temple of nature’s
creating.

The first church erected was not elaborate, but it
was roofed with tiles, and was ample in size for all
needful purposes. In 1812 an earthquake caused
a partial collapse of this structure. The corner
of the church fell, roofs were ruined, walls cracked,
and many buildings near the Mission were destroyed.
This was a serious calamity, but the padres never
seemed daunted by adverse circumstances. They
held the usual services in a granary, temporarily,
and in 1817 completed the building of a new church
constructed of brick and adobe, which still remains.
In 1829 the Mission property was said to resemble that
at Santa Barbara. On one side were gardens and
orchards, on the other houses and Indian huts, and
in front was a large enclosure, built of brick and
used for bathing and washing purposes.

When Governor Chico came up to assume his office in
1835 he claimed to have been insulted by a poor reception
from Padre Jimeno at Santa Ines. The padre said
he had had no notice of the governor’s coming,
and therefore did the best he could. But Presidente
Duran took the bold position of informing the governor,
in reply to a query, that the government had no claim
whatever upon the hospitality of unsecularized Missions.
Chico reported the whole matter to the assembly, who
sided with the governor, rebuked the presidente and
the padres, and confirmed an order issued for the
immediate secularization of Santa Ines and San Buenaventura
(Duran’s own Mission). J.M. Ramirez
was appointed comisionado at Santa Ines. At this
time the Mission was prosperous. The inventory
showed property valued at $46,186, besides the church
and its equipment. The general statistics from
the foundation, 1804 to 1834, show 1372 baptisms,
409 marriages, and 1271 deaths. The largest number
of cattle was 7300 in 1831, 800 horses in 1816, and
6000 sheep in 1821. After secularization horses
were taken for the troops, and while, for a time,
the cattle increased, it was not long before decline
set in.

Page 101

In 1843 the management of the Mission was restored
to the friars, but the former conditions of prosperity
had passed away never to return. Two years later
the estate was rented for $580 per year, and was finally
sold in 1846 for $1700, although in later times the
title was declared invalid. In the meantime an
ecclesiastical college was opened at Santa Ines in
1844. A grant of land had been obtained from the
government, and an assignment of $500 per year to
the seminary on the condition that no Californian
in search of a higher education should ever be excluded
from its doors; but the project met with only a temporary
success, and was abandoned after a brief existence
of six years.

In 1844 Presidente Duran reported 264 neophytes at
Santa Ines, with sufficient resources for their support.
When Pico’s order of 1845 was issued, the Mission
was valued at $20,288. This did not include the
church, the curate’s house or rooms, and the
rooms needed for the court-house. This inventory
was taken without the co-operation of the padre, who
refused to sign it. He—­the padre—­remained
in charge until 1850, when the Mission was most probably
abandoned.

At Santa Ines there were several workers in leather
and silver whose reputation still remains. In
various parts of the State are specimens of the saddles
they made and carved and then inlaid in silver that
are worthy a place in any noteworthy collection of
artistic work.

Only ten arches remain at Santa Ines of the long line
of corridor arches that once graced this building.
In the distance is a pillar of one still standing
alone. Between it and the last of the ten, eight
others used to be, and beyond it there are the clear
traces of three or four more.

The church floor is of red tiles. All the window
arches are plain semicircles. Plain, rounded,
heavy mouldings about three feet from the floor, and
the same distance from the ceiling, extend around the
inside of the church, making a simple and effective
structural ornament.

The original altar is not now used. It is hidden
behind the more pretentious modern one. It is
of cement, or plastered adobe, built out, like a huge
statue bracket, from the rear wall. The old tabernacle,
ornate and florid, is still in use, though showing
its century of service. There are also several
interesting candlesticks, two of which are pictured
in the chapter on woodwork.

Almost opposite the church entrance is a large reservoir,
built of brick, twenty-one feet long and eight feet
wide. It is at the bottom of a walled-in pit,
with a sloping entrance to the reservoir proper, walls
and slope being of burnt brick. This “sunk
enclosure” is about sixty feet long and thirty
feet across at the lower end, and about six feet below
the level to the edge of the reservoir. Connected
with this by a cement pipe or tunnel laid underground,
over 660 feet long, is another reservoir over forty
feet long, and eight feet wide, and nearly six feet
deep. This was the reservoir which supplied the
Indian village with water. The upper reservoir
was for the use of the padres and also for bathing
purposes.

Page 102

[Illustration: MISSION SANTA INES.]

[Illustration: MISSION SAN RAFAEL ARCANGEL.
From an old painting.]

[Illustration: MISSION SAN FRANCISCO SOLANO,
AT SONOMA.]

The water supply was brought from the mountains several
miles distant, flumed where necessary, and then conveyed
underground in cement pipes made and laid by the Indians
under the direction of the padres. The water-right
is now lost to the Mission, being owned by private
parties.

The earthquake of 1906 caused considerable damage
at Santa Ines, and it has not yet been completely
repaired, funds for the purpose not having been forthcoming.

CHAPTER XXIX

SAN RAFAEL, ARCANGEL

The Mission of the Archangel, San Rafael, was founded
to give a health resort to a number of neophytes who
were sick in San Francisco. The native name for
the site was Nanaguani. The date of founding
was December 14, 1817. There were about 140 neophytes
transferred at first, and by the end of 1820 the number
had increased to 590. In 1818 a composite building,
including church, priest’s house, and all the
apartments required, was erected. It was of adobe,
87 feet long, 42 feet wide, and 18 feet high, and
had a corridor of tules. In 1818, when Presidente
Payeras visited the Mission, he was not very pleased
with the site, and after making a somewhat careful
survey of the country around recommended several other
sites as preferable.

In 1824 a determined effort was made to capture a
renegade neophyte of San Francisco, a native of the
San Rafael region, named Pomponio, who for several
years had terrorized the country at intervals as far
south as Santa Cruz. He would rob, outrage, and
murder, confining most of his attacks, however, upon
the Indians. He had slain one soldier, Manuel
Varela, and therefore a determined effort was made
for his capture. Lieutenant Martinez, a corporal,
and two men found him in the Canyada de Novato, above
San Rafael. He was sent to Monterey, tried by
a court-martial on the 6th of February, and finally
shot the following September. This same Martinez
also had some conflicts about the same time with chieftains
of hostile tribes, north of the bay, named Marin and
Quentin, both of whom have left names, one to a county
and the other to a point on the bay.

When San Francisco Solano was founded, 92 neophytes
were sent there from San Rafael. In spite of
this, the population of San Rafael increased until
it numbered 1140 in 1828.

In 1824 Kotzebue visited the Mission and spoke enthusiastically
of its natural advantages, though he made but brief
reference to its improvements. On his way to
Sonoma, Duhaut-Cilly did not deem it of sufficient
importance to more than mention. Yet it was a
position of great importance. Governor Echeandia
became alarmed about the activity of the Russians
at Fort Ross, and accused them of bad faith, claiming
that they enticed neophytes away from San Rafael, etc.
The Mexican government, in replying to his fears,
urged the foundation of a fort, but nothing was done,
owing to the political complications at the time,
which made no man’s tenure of office certain.

Page 103

The secularization decree ordered that San Rafael
should become a parish of the first class, which class
paid its curates $1500, as against $1000 to those
of the second class.

In 1837 it was reported that the Indians were not
using their liberty well; so, owing to the political
troubles at the time, General Vallejo was authorized
to collect everything and care for it under a promise
to redistribute when conditions were better.
In 1840 the Indians insisted upon this promise being
kept, and in spite of the governor’s opposition
Vallejo succeeded in obtaining an order for the distribution
of the live-stock.

In 1845 Pico’s order, demanding the return within
one month of the Indians to the lands of San Rafael
or they would be sold, was published, and the inventory
taken thereupon showed a value of $17,000 in buildings,
lands, and live-stock. In 1846 the sale was made
to Antonio Sunol and A.M. Pico for $8000.
The purchasers did not obtain possession, and their
title was afterwards declared invalid.

In the distribution of the Mission stock Vallejo reserved
a small band of horses for the purposes of national
defense, and it was this band that was seized by the
“Bear Flag” revolutionists at the opening
of hostilities between the Americans and Mexicans.
This act was followed almost immediately by the joining
of the insurgents by Fremont, and the latter’s
marching to meet the Mexican forces, which were supposed
to be at San Rafael. No force, however, was found
there, so Fremont took possession of the Mission on
June 26, 1846, and remained there for about a week,
leaving there to chase up Torre, who had gone to join
Castro. When he finally left the region he took
with him a number of cattle and horses, went to Sonoma,
and on the 5th of July assumed active command of all
the insurgent forces, which ultimated in the conquest
of the State.

From this time the ex-Mission had no history.
The buildings doubtless suffered much from Fremont’s
occupancy, and never being very elaborate, easily
fell a prey to the elements.

There is not a remnant of them now left, and the site
is occupied by a modern, hideous, wooden building,
used as an armory.

CHAPTER XXX

SAN FRANCISCO SOLANO

Fifty-four years after the founding of the first Franciscan
Mission in California, the site was chosen for the
twenty-first and last, San Francisco Solano.
This Mission was established at Sonoma under conditions
already narrated. The first ceremonies took place
July 4, 1823, and nine months later the Mission church
was dedicated. This structure was built of boards,
but by the end of 1824 a large building had been completed,
made of adobe with tiled roof and corridor, also a
granary and eight houses for the use of the padres
and soldiers. Thus in a year and a half from
the time the location was selected the necessary Mission
buildings had been erected, and a large number of fruit
trees and vines were already growing. The neophytes
numbered 693, but many of these were sent from San
Francisco, San Jose and San Rafael. The Indians
at this Mission represented thirty-five different tribes,
according to the record, yet they worked together
harmoniously, and in 1830 their possessions included
more than 8000 cattle, sheep, and horses. Their
crops averaged nearly 2000 bushels of grain per year.

Page 104

The number of baptisms recorded during the twelve
years before secularization was over 1300. Ten
years later only about 200 Indians were left in that
vicinity.

In 1834 the Mission was secularized by M.G. Vallejo,
who appointed Ortega as majordomo. Vallejo quarreled
with Padre Quijas, who at once left and went to reside
at San Rafael. The movable property was distributed
to the Indians, and they were allowed to live on their
old rancherias, though there is no record that they
were formally allotted to them. By and by the
gentile Indians so harassed the Mission Indians that
the latter placed all their stock under the charge
of General Vallejo, asking him to care for it on their
behalf. The herds increased under his control,
the Indians had implicit confidence in him, and he
seems to have acted fairly and honestly by them.

The pueblo of Sonoma was organized as a part of the
secularization of San Francisco Solano, and also to
afford homes for the colonists brought to the country
by Hijar and Padres. In this same year the soldiers
of the presidio of San Francisco de Asis were transferred
to Sonoma, to act as a protection of the frontier,
to overawe the Russians, and check the incoming of
Americans. This meant the virtual abandonment
of the post by the shores of the bay. Vallejo
supported the presidial company, mainly at his own
expense, and made friends with the native chief, Solano,
who aided him materially in keeping the Indians peaceful.

The general statistics of the Mission for the eleven
years of its existence, 1823-34, are as follows:
baptisms 1315, marriages 278, deaths 651. The
largest population was 996 in 1832. The largest
number of cattle was 4849 in 1833, 1148 horses and
7114 sheep in the same year.

In 1845, when Pico’s plan for selling and renting
the Missions was formulated, Solano was declared without
value, the secularization having been completely carried
out, although there is an imperfect inventory of buildings,
utensils, and church property. It was ignored
in the final order. Of the capture of Sonoma
by the Bear Flag revolutionists and the operations
of Fremont, it is impossible here to treat. They
are to be found in every good history of California.

In 1880 Bishop Alemany sold the Mission and grounds
of San Francisco Solano to a German named Schocken
for $3000. With that money a modern church was
erected for the parish, which is still being used.
For six months after the sale divine services were
still held in the old Mission, and then Schocken used
it as a place for storing wine and hay. In September,
1903, it was sold to the Hon. W.R. Hearst for
$5000. The ground plot was 166 by 150 feet.
It is said that the tower was built by General Vallejo
in 1835 or thereabouts. The deeds have been transferred
to the State of California and accepted by the Legislature.
The intention is to preserve the Mission as a valuable
historic landmark.

CHAPTER XXXI

Page 105

THE MISSION CHAPELS OR ASISTENCIAS

The Mission padres were the first circuit riders or
pastors. It is generally supposed that the circuit
rider is a device of the Methodist church, but history
clearly reveals that long prior to the time of the
sainted Wesley, and the denomination he founded, the
padres were “riding the circuit,” or walking,
visiting the various rancherias which had no settled
pastor.

Where buildings for worship were erected at these
places they were called chapels, or asistencias.
Some of these chapels still remain in use and the
ruins of others are to be seen. The Mission of
San Gabriel had four such chapels, viz., Los
Angeles, Puente, San Antonio de Santa Ana, and San
Bernardino. Of the first and the last we have
considerable history.

LOS ANGELES CHAPEL

As I have elsewhere shown, it was the plan of the
Spanish Crown not only to Christianize and civilize
the Indians of California, but also to colonize the
country. In accordance with this plan the pueblo
of San Jose was founded on the 29th of November, 1776.
The second was that of Los Angeles in 1781. Rivera
was sent to secure colonists in Sonora and Sinaloa
for the new pueblo, and also for the establishments
it was intended to found on the channel of Santa Barbara.

In due time colonists were secured, and a more mongrel
lot it would be hard to conceive: Indian, Spanish,
Negro, Indian and Spanish, and Indian and Negro bloods
were represented, 42 souls in all. The blood which
makes the better Spanish classes in Los Angeles to-day
so proud represents those who came in much later.

There was nothing accidental in the founding of any
Spanish colony. Everything was planned beforehand.
The colonist obeyed orders as rigidly executed as
if they were military commands. According to
Professor Guinn:

“The area of a pueblo, under
Spanish rule, was four square leagues, or about
17,770 acres. The pueblo lands were divided into
solares (house lots), suertes[5] (fields
for planting), dehesas (outside pasture
lands), ejidos (commons), propios
(lands rented or leased), realengas (royal
lands).”

[5] Suerte. This is colloquial, it really
means “chance” or “haphazard.”
In other words, it was the piece of ground that fell
to the settler by “lot.”

On the arrival of the colonists in San Gabriel from
Loreto on the 18th of August, 1781, Governor Neve
issued instructions for founding Los Angeles on the
26th. The first requirement was to select a site
for a dam, to provide water for domestic and irrigation
purposes. Then to locate the plaza and the homes
and fields of the colonists. Says Professor Guinn:

Page 106

“The old plaza was a parallelogram
too varas[6] in length by 75 in breadth.
It was laid out with its corners facing the cardinal
points of the compass, and with its streets running
at right angles to each of its four sides, so
that no street would be swept by the wind.
Two streets, each 10 varas wide, opened out on
the longer sides, and three on each of the shorter
sides. Upon three sides of the plaza were the
house lots, 20 by 40 varas each, fronting on
the square. One-half the remaining side
was reserved for a guard-house, a town-house,
and a public granary. Around the embryo town,
a few years later, was built an adobe wall—­not
so much, perhaps, for protection from foreign
invasion as from domestic intrusion. It
was easier to wall in the town than to fence
the cattle and goats that pastured outside.”

[6] A vara is the Spanish yard of 33 inches.

The government supplied each colonist with a pair
each of oxen, mules, mares, sheep, goats, and cows,
one calf, a burro, a horse, and the branding-irons
which distinguished his animals from those of the other
settlers. There were also certain tools furnished
for the colony as a whole.

On the 14th of September of the same year the plaza
was solemnly dedicated. A father from the San
Gabriel Mission recited mass, a procession circled
the plaza, bearing the cross, the standard of Spain,
and an image of “Our Lady,” after which
salvos of musketry were fired and general rejoicings
indulged in. Of course the plaza was blessed,
and we are even told that Governor Neve made a speech.

As to when the first church was built in Los Angeles
there seems to be some doubt. In 1811 authority
was gained for the erection of a new chapel, but nowhere
is there any account of a prior building. Doubtless
some temporary structure had been used. There
was no regular priest settled here, for in 1810 the
citizens complained that the San Gabriel padres did
not pay enough attention to their sick. In August
of 1814 the corner-stone of the new chapel was laid
by Padre Gil of San Gabriel, but nothing more than
laying the foundation was done for four years.
Then Governor Sola ordered that a higher site be chosen.
The citizens subscribed five hundred cattle towards
the fund, and Prefect Payeras made an appeal to the
various friars which resulted in donations of seven
barrels of brandy, worth $575. With these funds
the work was done, Jose Antonio Ramirez being the
architect, and his workers neophytes from San Gabriel
and San Luis Rey, who were paid a real (twelve and
a half cents) per day. Before 1821 the walls
were raised to the window arches. The citizens,
however, showed so little interest in the matter that
it was not until Payeras made another appeal to his
friars that they contributed enough to complete
the work. Governor Sola gave a little, and the
citizens a trifle. It is interesting to note what
the contributions of the friars were. San Miguel

Page 107

offered 500 cattle, San Luis Obispo 200 cattle, Santa
Barbara a barrel of brandy, San Diego two barrels
of white wine, Purisima six mules and 200 cattle, San
Fernando one barrel brandy, San Gabriel two barrels
brandy, San Buenaventura said it would try to make
up deficits or supply church furniture, etc.
Thus Payeras’s zeal and the willingness of the
Los Angelenos to pay for wine and brandy, which they
doubtless drank “to the success of the church,”
completed the structure, and December 8, 1822, it was
formally dedicated. Auguste Wey writes:

“The oldest church in Los Angeles
is known in local American parlance as ‘The
Plaza Church,’ ‘Our Lady,’ ’Our
Lady of Angels,’ ‘Church of Our Lady,’
‘Church of the Angels,’ ‘Father
Liebana’s Church,’ and ‘The Adobe
Church.’ It is formally the church
of Nuestra Senora, Reina de los Angeles—­Our
Lady, Queen of the Angels—­from whom Los
Angeles gets its name.”

That is, the city gets its name from Our Lady, the
Queen of the Angels, not from the church, as the pueblo
was named long before the church was even suggested.

The plaza was formally moved to its present site in
1835, May 23, when the government was changed from
that of a pueblo to a city.

Concerning the name of the pueblo and river Rev. Joachin
Adam, vicar general of the diocese, in a paper read
before the Historical Society of Southern California
several years ago, said:

“The name Los Angeles is probably
derived from the fact that the expedition by
land, in search of the harbor of Monterey, passed
through this place on the 2d of August, 1769, a day
when the Franciscan missionaries celebrate the
feast of Nuestra Senora de los Angeles—­Our
Lady of the Angels. This expedition left
San Diego July 14, 1769, and reached here on the
first of August, when they killed for the first time
some berrendos, or antelope. On the
second, they saw a large stream with much good
land, which they called Porciuncula on account
of commencing on that day the jubilee called Porciuncula,
granted to St. Francis while praying in the little
church of Our Lady of the Angels, near Assisi, in
Italy, commonly called Della Porciuncula from
a hamlet of that name near by. This was
the original name of the Los Angeles River.”

The last two recorded burials within the walls of
the Los Angeles chapel are those of the young wife
of Nathaniel M. Pryor, “buried on the left-hand
side facing the altar,” and of Dona Eustaquia,
mother of the Dons Andres, Jesus, and Pio Pico, all
intimately connected with the history of the later
days of Mexican rule.

CHAPEL OF SAN BERNARDINO

Page 108

It must not be forgotten that one of the early methods
of reaching California was inland. Travelers
came from Mexico, by way of Sonora, then crossed the
Colorado River and reached San Gabriel and Monterey
in the north, over practically the same route as that
followed to-day by the Southern Pacific Railway, viz.,
crossing the river at Yuma, over the Colorado Desert,
by way of the San Gorgonio Pass, and through the San
Bernardino and San Gabriel valleys. It was in
1774 that Captain Juan Bautista de Anza, of the presidio
of Tubac in Arizona, was detailed by the Viceroy of
New Spain to open this road. He made quite an
expedition of it,—­240 men, women, and Indian
scouts, and 1050 animals. They named the San
Gorgonio Pass the Puerto de San Carlos, and the San
Bernardino Valley the Valle de San Jose. Cucamonga
they called the Arroyo de los Osos (Bear Ravine or
Gulch).

As this road became frequented San Gabriel was the
first stopping-place where supplies could be obtained
after crossing the desert. This was soon found
to be too far away, and for years it was desired that
a station nearer to the desert be established, but
not until 1810 was the decisive step taken. Then
Padre Dumetz of San Gabriel, with a band of soldiers
and Indian neophytes, set out, early in May, to find
a location and establish such a station. They
found a populous Indian rancheria, in a region well
watered and luxuriant, and which bore a name significant
of its desirability. The valley was Guachama,
“the place of abundance of food and water,”
and the Indians had the same name. A station
was established near the place now known as Bunker
Hill, between Urbita Springs and Colton, and a “capilla,”
built, dedicated to San Bernardino, because it was
on May 20, San Bernardino’s feast-day, that
Padre Dumetz entered the valley. The trustworthiness
of the Indians will be understood when it is recalled
that this chapel, station, and the large quantity
of supplies were left in their charge, under the command
of one of their number named Hipolito. Soon the
station became known, after this Indian, as Politana.

The destruction of Politana in 1810 by savage and
hostile Indians, aided by earthquakes, was a source
of great distress to the padres at San Gabriel, and
they longed to rebuild. But the success of the
attack of the unconverted Indians had reawakened the
never long dormant predatory instincts of the desert
Indians, and, for several years, these made frequent
incursions into the valley, killing not only the whites,
but such Indians as seemed to prefer the new faith
to the old. But in 1819 the Guachamas sent a
delegation to San Gabriel, requesting the padres to
come again, rebuild the Mission chapel, and re-establish
the supply station, and giving assurances of protection
and good behavior. The padres gladly acceded
to the requests made, and in 1820 solemn chants and
earnest exhortations again resounded in the ears of
the Guachamas in a new and larger building of adobe
erected some eight miles from Politana.

Page 109

There are a few ruined walls still standing of the
chapel of San Bernardino at this time, and had it
not been for the care recently bestowed upon them,
there would soon have been no remnant of this once
prosperous and useful asistencia of the Mission of
San Gabriel.

CHAPEL OF SAN MIGUEL

In 1803 a chapel was built at a rancheria called by
the Indians Mescaltitlan, and the Spaniards
San Miguel, six miles from Santa Barbara. It
was of adobes, twenty-seven by sixty-six feet.
In 1807 eighteen adobe dwellings were erected at the
same place.

CHAPEL OF SAN MIGUELITO

One of the vistas of San Luis Obispo was a rancheria
known as San Miguelito, and here in 1809 the governor
gave his approval that a chapel should be erected.
San Luis had several such vistas, and I am told that
the ruins of several chapels are still in existence
in that region.

CHAPEL AT SANTA ISABEL (SAN DIEGO)

In 1816-19 the padres at San Diego urged the governor
to give them permission to erect a chapel at Santa
Isabel, some forty miles away, where two hundred baptized
Indians were living. The governor did not approve,
however, and nothing was done until after 1820.
By 1822 the chapel was reported built, with several
houses, a granary, and a graveyard. The population
had increased to 450, and these materially aided San
Diego in keeping the mountainous tribes, who were hostile,
in check.

A recent article in a Southern California magazine
thus describes the ruins of the Mission of Santa Isabel:

“Levelled by time, and washed
by winter rains, the adobe walls of the church
have sunk into indistinguishable heaps of earth
which vaguely define the outlines of the ancient edifice.
The bells remain, hung no longer in a belfry, but on
a rude framework of logs. A tall cross, made
of two saplings nailed in shape, marks the consecrated
spot. Beyond it rise the walls of the brush
building, enramada, woven of green wattled
boughs, which does duty for a church on Sundays and
on the rare occasions of a visit from the priest,
who makes a yearly pilgrimage to these outlying
portions of his diocese. On Sundays, the
Captain of the tribe acts as lay reader and recites
the services. Then and on Saturday nights the
bells are rung. An Indian boy has the office
of bell-ringer, and crossing the ropes attached
to the clappers, he skilfully makes a solemn
chime.”

The graveyard at Santa Isabel is neglected and forlorn,
and yet bears many evidences of the loving thoughtfulness
of the loved ones who remain behind.

CHAPEL OF MESA GRANDE

Eleven miles or so from Santa Isabel, up a steep road,
is the Indian village of Mesa Grande. The rancheria
(as the old Spaniards would call it) occupies a narrow
valley and sweep of barren hillside. On a level
space at the foot of the mountain the little church
is built. Santo Domingo is the patron saint.

Page 110

A recent visitor thus describes it:

“The church was built like that
of Santa Isabel, of green boughs, and the chancel
was decorated with muslin draperies and ornaments
of paper and ribbon, in whose preparation a faithful
Indian woman had spent the greater part of five days.
The altar was furnished with drawn-work cloths, and
in a niche above it was a plaster image of Santo
Domingo, one hand holding a book, the other outstretched
in benediction. Upon the outstretched hand
a rosary had been hung with appropriate effect.
Some mystic letters appeared in the muslin that
draped the ceiling, which, being interpreted, proved
to be the initials of the solitary member of the altar
guild, and of such of her family as she was pleased
to commemorate.”

CHAPEL OF SANTA MARGARITA (SAN LUIS OBISPO)

One of the ranches of San Luis Obispo was that of
Santa Margarita on the north side of the Sierra Santa
Lucia. As far as I know there is no record of
the date when the chapel was built, yet it was a most
interesting and important structure.

In May, 1904, its identity was completely destroyed,
its interior walls being dynamited and removed and
the whole structure roofed over to be used as a barn.

It originally consisted of a chapel about 40 feet
long and 30 feet wide, and eight rooms. The chapel
was at the southwest end. The whole building
was 120 feet long and 20 feet wide. The walls
were about three feet thick, and built of large pieces
of rough sandstone and red bricks, all cemented strongly
together with a white cement that is still hard and
tenacious. It is possible there was no fachada
to the chapel at the southwest end, for a well-built
elliptical arched doorway, on the southeast side,
most probably was the main entrance.

It has long been believed that this was not the only
Mission building at Santa Margarita. Near by
are three old adobe houses, all recently renovated
out of all resemblance to their original condition,
and all roofed with red Mission tiles. These
were built in the early days. The oldest Mexican
inhabitants of the present-day Santa Margarita remember
them as a part of the Mission building.

Here, then, is explanation enough for the assumption
of a large Indian population on this ranch, which
led the neighboring padres to establish a chapel for
their Christianization and civilization. Undoubtedly
in its aboriginal days there was a large Indian population,
for there were all the essentials in abundance.
Game of every kind—­deer, antelope, rabbits,
squirrels, bear, ducks, geese, doves, and quail—­yet
abound; also roots of every edible kind, and more
acorns than in any other equal area in the State.
There is a never failing flow of mountain water and
innumerable springs, as well as a climate at once warm
and yet bracing, for here on the northern slopes of
the Santa Lucia, frost is not uncommon.

Page 111

CHAPEL OF SANTA ISABEL (SAN MIGUEL)

I have elsewhere referred to the water supply of Santa
Isabel as being used for irrigation connected with
San Miguel Mission. There is every evidence that
a large rancheria existed at Santa Isabel, and that
for many years it was one of the valued rancheros
of the Mission. Below the Hot Springs the remains
of a large dam still exist, which we now know was
built by the padres for irrigation purposes. A
large tract of land below was watered by it, and we
have a number of reports of the annual yield of grain,
showing great fertility and productivity. Near
the present ranch house at Santa Isabel are large
adobe ruins, evidently used as a house for the majordomo
and for the padre on his regular visitations to the
rancheria. One of the larger rooms was doubtless
a chapel where mass was said for the neophytes who
cultivated the soil in this region.

CHAPEL OF SAN ANTONIO DE PALA

The chapel at Pala is perhaps the best known of all
the asistencias on account of its picturesque campanile.
It was built by the indefatigable Padre Peyri, in
1816, and is about twenty miles from San Luis Rey,
to which it belonged. Within a year or two, by
means of a resident padre, over a thousand converts
were gathered, reciting their prayers and tilling
the soil. A few buildings, beside the chapel,
were erected, and the community, far removed from
all political strife, must have been happy and contented
in its mountain-valley home. The chapel is a long,
narrow adobe structure, 144 by 27 feet, roofed with
red tiles. The walls within were decorated in
the primitive and singular fashion found at others
of the Missions, and upon the altar were several statues
which the Indians valued highly.

Pala is made peculiarly interesting as the present
home of the evicted Palatingwa (Hot Springs) Indians
of Warner’s Ranch. Here these wretchedly
treated “wards of the nation” are now struggling
with the problem of life, with the fact ever before
them, when they think, (as they often do, for several
of them called my attention to the fact) that the
former Indian population of Pala has totally disappeared.
At the time of the secularization of San Luis Rey,
Pala suffered with the rest; and when the Americans
finally took possession it was abandoned to the tender
mercies of the straying, seeking, searching, devouring
homesteader. In due time it was “home-steaded”
The chapel and graveyard were ultimately deeded back;
and when the Landmarks Club took hold it was agreed
that the ruins “revert to their proper ownership,
the church.”

[Illustration: CAMPANILE AND CHAPEL, SAN ANTONIO
DE PALA.]

[Illustration: ANOTHER VIEW OF THE CAMPANILE
AND CHAPEL, SAN ANTONIO DE PALA.]

[Illustration: MAIN DOORWAY AT SANTA MARGARITA
CHAPEL.]

Though all the original Indians were ousted long ago
from their lands at Pala, those who lived anywhere
within a dozen or a score miles still took great interest
in the old buildings, the decorations of the church,
and the statues of the saints. Whenever a priest
came and held services a goodly congregation assembled,
for a number of Mexicans, as well as Indians, live
in the neighborhood.

Page 112

That they loved the dear old asistencia was manifested
by Americans, Mexicans, and Indians alike, for when
the Landmarks Club visited it in December, 1901, and
asked for assistance to put it in order, help was
immediately volunteered to the extent of $217, if the
work were paid for at the rate of $1.75 per day.

With a desire to promote the good feeling aimed at
in recent dealings with the evicted Indians of Warner’s
Ranch, now located at Pala, the bishop of the diocese
sent them a priest. He, however, was of an alien
race, and unfamiliar with either the history of the
chapel, its memories, or the feelings of the Indians;
and to their intense indignation, they found that
without consulting them, or his own superiors, he
had destroyed nearly all the interior decorations by
covering them with a coating of whitewash.

The building now is in fairly good condition and the
Indians have a pastor who holds regular services for
them. In the main they express themselves as
highly contented with their present condition, and
on a visit paid them in April, 1913, I found them
happy and prosperous.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE MISSION INDIANS

The disastrous effect of the order of secularization
upon the Indians, as well as the Missions themselves,
has been referred to in a special chapter. Here
I wish to give, in brief, a clearer idea of the present
condition of the Indians than was there possible.
In the years 1833-1837 secularization actually was
accomplished. The knowledge that it was coming
had already done much injury. The Pious Fund,
which then amounted to upwards of a half-million dollars,
was confiscated by the Mexican government. The
officials said it was merely “borrowed.”
This practically left the Indians to their own resources.
A certain amount of land and stock were to be given
to each head of a family, and tools were to be provided.
Owing to the long distance between California and the
City of Mexico, there was much confusion as to how
the changes should be brought about. There have
been many charges made, alleging that the padres wilfully
allowed the Mission property to go to ruin, when they
were deprived of its control. This ruin would
better be attributed to the general demoralization
of the times than to any definite policy. For
it must be remembered that the political conditions
of Mexico at that time were most unsettled. None
knew what a day or an hour might bring forth.
All was confusion, uncertainty, irresponsibility.
And in the melee Mission property and Mission
Indians suffered.

What was to become of the Indians? Imagine the
father of a family—­that had no mother—­suddenly
snatched away, and all the property, garden, granary,
mill, storehouse, orchards, cattle, placed in other
hands. What would the children do?

Page 113

So now the Indians, like bereft children, knew not
what to do, and, naturally, they did what our own
children would do. Led by want and hunger, some
sought and found work and food, and others, alas, became
thieves. The Mission establishment was the organized
institution that had cared for them, and had provided
the work that supported them. No longer able
to go and live “wildly” as of old, they
were driven to evil methods by necessity unless the
new government directed their energies into right
channels. Few attempted to do this; hence the
results that were foreseen by the padres followed.

July 7, 1846, saw the Mexican flag in California hauled
down, and the Stars and Stripes raised in its place;
but as far as the Indian was concerned, the change
was for the worse instead of the better. Indeed,
it may truthfully be said that the policies of the
three governments, Spanish, Mexican, and American,
have shown three distinct phases, and that the last
is by far the worst.

Our treatment of these Indians reads like a hideous
nightmare. Absolutely no forceful and effective
protest seems to have been made against the indescribable
wrongs perpetrated. The gold discoveries of 1849
brought into the country a class of adventurers, gamblers,
liquor sellers, and camp followers of the vilest description.
The Indians became helpless victims in the hands of
these infamous wretches, and even the authorities
aided to make these Indians “good.”

Bartlett, who visited the country in 1850 to 1853,
tells of meeting with an old Indian at San Luis Rey
who spoke glowingly of the good times they had when
the padres were there, but “now,” he said,
“they were scattered about, he knew not where,
without a home or protectors, and were in a miserable,
starving condition.” Of the San Francisco
Indians he says:

“They are a miserable, squalid-looking
set, squatting or lying about the corners of
the streets, without occupation. They have
now no means of obtaining a living, as their lands
are all taken from them; and the Missions for
which they labored, and which provided after
a sort for many thousands of them, are abolished.
No care seems to be taken of them by the Americans;
on the contrary, the effort seems to be to exterminate
them as soon as possible.”

According to the most conservative estimates there
were over thirty thousand Indians under the control
of the Missions at the time of secularization in 1833.
To-day, how many are there? I have spent long
days in the different Mission localities, arduously
searching for Indians, but oftentimes only to fail
of my purpose. In and about San Francisco, there
is not one to be found. At San Carlos Borromeo,
in both Monterey and the Carmelo Valley, except for
a few half-breeds, no one of Indian blood can be discovered.
It is the same at San Miguel, San Luis Obispo, and
Santa Barbara. At Pala, that romantic chapel,
where once the visiting priest from San Luis Rey found

Page 114

a congregation of several hundreds awaiting his ministrations,
the land was recently purchased from white men, by
the United States Indian Commission, as a new home
for the evicted Palatingwa Indians of Warner’s
Ranch. These latter Indians, in recent interviews
with me, have pertinently asked: “Where
did the white men get this land, so they could sell
it to the government for us? Indians lived here
many centuries before a white man had ever seen the
‘land of the sundown sea.’ When the
‘long-gowns’ first came here, there were
many Indians at Pala. Now they are all gone.
Where? And how do we know that before long we
shall not be driven out, and be gone, as they were
driven out and are gone?”

At San Luis Rey and San Diego, there are a few scattered
families, but very few, and most of these have fled
far back into the desert, or to the high mountains,
as far as possible out of reach of the civilization
that demoralizes and exterminates them.

A few scattered remnants are all that remain.

Let us seek for the real reason why.

The system of the padres was patriarchal, paternal.
Certain it is that the Indians were largely treated
as if they were children. No one questions or
denies this statement. Few question that the Indians
were happy under this system, and all will concede
that they made wonderful progress in the so-called
arts of civilization. From crude savagery they
were lifted by the training of the fathers into usefulness
and productiveness. They retained their health,
vigor, and virility. They were, by necessity
perhaps, but still undeniably, chaste, virtuous, temperate,
honest, and reasonably truthful. They were good
fathers and mothers, obedient sons and daughters,
amenable to authority, and respectful to the counsels
of old age.

All this and more may unreservedly be said for the
Indians while they were under the control of the fathers.
That there were occasionally individual cases of harsh
treatment is possible. The most loving and indulgent
parents are now and again ill-tempered, fretful, or
nervous. The fathers were men subject to all
the limitations of other men. Granting these
limitations and making due allowance for human imperfection,
the rule of the fathers must still be admired for its
wisdom and commended for its immediate results.

Now comes the order of secularization, and a little
later the domination of the Americans. Those
opposed to the control of the fathers are to set the
Indians free. They are to be “removed from
under the irksome restraint of cold-blooded priests
who have held them in bondage not far removed from
slavery"!! They are to have unrestrained liberty,
the broadest and fullest intercourse with the great
American people, the white, Caucasian American, not
the dark-skinned Mexican!!!

What was the result. Let an eye-witness testify:

Page 115

“These thousands of Indians had
been held in the most rigid discipline by the
Mission Fathers, and after their emancipation
by the Supreme Government of Mexico, had been reasonably
well governed by the local authorities, who found
in them indispensable auxiliaries as farmers and
harvesters, hewers of wood and drawers of water,
and besides, the best horse-breakers and herders
in the world, necessary to the management of
the great herds of the country. These Indians
were Christians, docile even to servility, and
excellent laborers. Then came the Americans,
followed soon after by the discovery of, and
the wild rush for, gold, and the relaxation for
the time being of a healthy administration of the laws.
The ruin of this once happy and useful people
commenced. The cultivators of vineyards
began to pay their Indian peons with aguardiente,
a real ‘firewater.’ The consequence
was that on receiving their wages on Saturday
evening, the laborers habitually met in great
gatherings and passed the night in gambling,
drunkenness, and debauchery. On Sunday the streets
were crowded from morning until night with Indians,—­males
and females of all ages, from the girl of ten or
twelve to the old man and woman of seventy or eighty.

“By four o’clock on Sunday
afternoon, Los Angeles Street, from Commercial
to Nigger Alley, Aliso Street from Los Angeles
to Alameda, and Nigger Alley, were crowded with a
mass of drunken Indians, yelling and fighting:
men and women, boys and girls using tooth and
nail, and frequently knives, but always in a
manner to strike the spectator with horror.

“At sundown, the pompous marshal,
with his Indian special deputies, who had been
confined in jail all day to keep them sober,
would drive and drag the combatants to a great corral
in the rear of the Downey Block, where they slept
away their intoxication. The following morning
they would be exposed for sale, as slaves for
the week. Los Angeles had its slave-mart as
well as New Orleans and Constantinople,—­only
the slaves at Los Angeles were sold fifty-two
times a year, as long as they lived, a period
which did not generally exceed one, two, or three
years under the new dispensation. They were sold
for a week, and bought up by vineyard men and
others at prices ranging from one to three dollars,
one-third of which was to be paid to the peon
at the end of the week, which debt, due for well-performed
labor, was invariably paid in aguardiente,
and the Indian made happy, until the following Monday
morning, he having passed through another Saturday
night and Sunday’s saturnalia of debauchery
and bestiality. Those thousands of honest,
useful people were absolutely destroyed in this
way.”

In reference to these statements of the sale of the
Indians as slaves, it should be noted that the act
was done under the cover of the law. The Indian
was “fined” a certain sum for his drunkenness,
and was then turned over to the tender mercies of
the employer, who paid the fine. Thus “justice”
was perverted to the vile ends of the conscienceless
scoundrels who posed as “officers of the law.”

Page 116

Charles Warren Stoddard, one of California’s
sweetest poets, realized to the full the mercenary
treatment the Missions and the Indians had received,
and one of the latest and also most powerful poems
he ever wrote, “The Bells of San Gabriel,”
deals with this spoliation as a theme. The poem
first appeared in Sunset Magazine, the Pacific
Monthly, and with the kind consent of the editor
I give the last stanza.

“Where are they
now, O tower!
The locusts
and wild honey?
Where is the sacred
dower
That the
Bride of Christ was given?
Gone to the wielders
of power,
The misers
and minters of money;
Gone for the greed that
is their creed—­
And these
in the land have thriven.
What then wert thou,
and what art now,
And wherefore
hast thou striven?

REFRAIN

And every note of every
bell
Sang Gabriel!
rang Gabriel!
In the tower that is
left the tale to tell
Of Gabriel,
the Archangel.”

To-day, the total Indian population of Southern California
is reported as between two and three thousand.
It is not increasing, and it is good for the race
that it is not. Until the incumbency by W.A.
Jones of the Indian Commissionership in Washington,
there seems to have been little or no attempt at effective
protection of the Indians against the land and other
thefts of the whites. The facts are succinctly
and powerfully stated by Helen Hunt Jackson in her
report to the government, and in her Glimpses of
California and the Missions. The indictment
of churches, citizens, and the general government,
for their crime of supineness in allowing our acknowledged
wards to be seduced, cheated, and corrupted, should
be read by every honest American; even though it make
his blood seethe with indignation and his nerves quiver
with shame.

In my larger work on this subject I published a table
from the report of the agent for the “Mission-Tule”
Consolidated Agency, which is dated September 25,
1903.

This is the official report of an agent whom not even
his best friends acknowledge as being over fond of
his Indian charges, or likely to be sentimental in
his dealings with them. What does this report
state? Of twenty-eight “reservations”—­and
some of these include several Indian villages—­it
announces that the lands of eight are yet “not
patented.” In other words, that the Indians
are living upon them “on sufferance.”
Therefore, if any citizen of the United States, possessed
of sufficient political power, so desired, the lands
could be restored to the public domain. Then,
not even the United States Supreme Court could hold
them for the future use and benefit of the Indians.

On five of these reservations the land is “desert,”
and in two cases, “subject to intense heat”
(it might be said, to 150 degrees, and even higher
in the middle of summer); in one case there is “little
water for irrigation.”

Page 117

In four cases it is “poor land,” with
“no water,” and in another instance there
are “worthless, dry hills;” in still another
the soil is “almost worthless for lack of water!”

In one of the desert cases, where there are five villages,
the government has supplied “water in abundance
for irrigation and domestic use, from artesian wells.”
Yet the land is not patented, and the Indians are
helpless, if evicted by resolute men.

At Cahuilla, with a population of one hundred fifty-five,
the report says, “mountain valley; stock land
and little water. Not patented.”

At Santa Isabel, including Volcan, with a population
of two hundred eighty-four, the reservation of twenty-nine
thousand eight hundred forty-four acres is patented,
but the report says it is “mountainous; stock
land; no water.”

At San Jacinto, with a population of one hundred forty-three,
the two thousand nine hundred sixty acres are “mostly
poor; very little water, and not patented.”

San Manuel, with thirty-eight persons, has a patent
for six hundred forty acres of “worthless, dry
hills.”

Temecula, with one hundred eighty-one persons, has
had allotted to its members three thousand three hundred
sixty acres, which area, however, is “almost
worthless for lack of water.”

Let us reflect upon these things! The poor Indian
is exiled and expelled from the lands of his ancestors
to worthless hills, sandy desert, grazing lands, mostly
poor and mountainous land, while our powerful government
stands by and professes its helplessness to prevent
the evil. These discouraging facts are enough
to make the just and good men who once guided the
republic rise from their graves. Is there a remnant
of honor, justice, or integrity, left among our politicians?

There is one thing this government should have done,
could have done, and might have done, and it is to
its discredit and disgrace that it did not do it;
that is, when the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo transferred
the Indians from the domination of Mexico to that
of the United States, this government “of, for,
and by” the people, should have recognized the
helplessness of its wards and not passed a law of which
they could not by any possibility know, requiring
them to file on their lands, but it should have appointed
a competent guardian of their moral and legal rights,
taking it for granted that occupancy of the lands
of their forefathers would give them a legal title
which would hold forever against all comers.

In all the Spanish occupation of California it is
doubtful whether one case ever occurred where an Indian
was driven off his land.

Page 118

In rendering a decision on the Warner’s Ranch
Case the United States Supreme Court had an opportunity
offered it, once for all to settle the status of all
American Indians. Had it familiarized itself with
the laws of Spain, under which all Spanish grants
were made, it would have found that the Indian was
always considered first and foremost in all grants
of lands made. He must be protected in his right;
it was inalienable. He was helpless, and therefore
the officers of the Crown were made responsible for
his protection. If subordinate officers failed,
then the more urgent the duty of superior officers.
Therefore, even had a grant been made of Warner’s
Ranch in which the grantor purposely left out the
recognition of the rights of the Indians, the highest
Spanish courts would not have tolerated any such abuse
of power. This was an axiom of Spanish rule,
shown by a hundred, a thousand precedents. Hence
it should have been recognized by the United States
Supreme Court. It is good law, but better, it
is good sense and common justice, and this is especially
good when it protects the helpless and weak from the
powerful and strong.

In our dealings with the Indians in our school system,
we are making the mistake of being in too great a
hurry. A race of aborigines is not raised into
civilization in a night. It will be well if it
is done in two or three generations.

Contrast our method with that followed by the padres.
Is there any comparison? Yes! To our shame
and disgrace. The padres kept fathers and mothers
and children together, at least to a reasonable degree.
Where there were families they lived—­as
a rule—­in their own homes near the Missions.
Thus there was no division of families. On the
other hand, we have wilfully and deliberately, though
perhaps without malice aforethought (although
the effect has been exactly the same as if we had
had malice), separated children from their parents
and sent them a hundred, several hundred, often two
or three thousand miles away from home, there
to receive an education often entirely inappropriate
and incompetent to meet their needs. And even
this sending has not always been honorably done. Vide
the United States Indian Commissioner’s report
for 1900. He says:

“These pupils are gathered from
the cabin, the wickiup, and the tepee. Partly
by cajolery and partly by threats; partly by
bribery and partly by fraud; partly by persuasion and
partly by force, they are induced to leave
their homes and their kindred to enter these
schools and take upon themselves the outward
semblance of civilized life. They are chosen not
on account of any particular merit of their own,
not by reason of mental fitness, but solely because
they have Indian blood in their veins. Without
regard to their worldly condition; without any
previous training; without any preparation whatever,
they are transported to the schools—­sometimes
thousands of miles away—­without the slightest

Page 119

expense or trouble to themselves or their people.

“The Indian youth finds himself
at once, as if by magic, translated from a state
of poverty to one of affluence. He is well
fed and clothed and lodged. Books and all the
accessories of learning are given him and teachers
provided to instruct him. He is educated
in the industrial arts on the one hand, and not
only in the rudiments but in the liberal arts
on the other. Beyond the three r’s he is
instructed in geography, grammar, and history;
he is taught drawing, algebra and geometry, music
and astronomy and receives lessons in physiology,
botany, and entomology. Matrons wait on
him while he is well, and physicians and nurses attend
him when he is sick. A steam laundry does
his washing, and the latest modern appliances
do his cooking. A library affords him relaxation
for his leisure hours, athletic sports and the gymnasium
furnish him exercise and recreation, while music entertains
him in the evening. He has hot and cold baths,
and steam heat and electric light, and all the
modern conveniences. All the necessities
of life are given him, and many of the luxuries.
All of this without money and without price,
or the contribution of a single effort of his own or
of his people. His wants are all supplied
almost for the wish. The child of the wigwam
becomes a modern Aladdin, who has only to rub
the government lamp to gratify his desires.

“Here he remains until his education
is finished, when he is returned to his home—­which
by contrast must seem squalid indeed—­to
the parents whom his education must make it difficult
to honor, and left to make his way against the ignorance
and bigotry of his tribe. Is it any wonder he
fails? Is it surprising if he lapses into
barbarism? Not having earned his education,
it is not appreciated; having made no sacrifice
to obtain it, it is not valued. It is looked
upon as a right and not as a privilege; It is accepted
as a favor to the government and not to the recipient,
and the almost inevitable tendency is to encourage
dependency, foster pride, and create a spirit
of arrogance and selfishness. The testimony
on this point of those closely connected with
the Indian employees of the service would, it is
believe, be interesting.”

So there the matter stands. Nothing of any great
importance was really done to help the Indians except
the conferences at Mohonk, N.Y., until, in 1902, the
Sequoya League was organized, composed of many men
and women of national prominence, with the avowed
purpose “to make better Indians.”
In its first pronunciamento it declared:

Page 120

“The first struggle will be not
to arouse sympathy but to inform with slow patience
and long wisdom the wide-spread sympathy which
already exists. We cannot take the Indians out
of the hands of the National Government; we cannot
take the National Government into our own hands.
Therefore we must work with the National Government
in any large plan for the betterment of Indian
conditions.

“The League means, in absolute
good faith, not to fight, but to assist the Indian
Bureau. It means to give the money of many
and the time and brains and experience of more than
a few to honest assistance to the Bureau in doing
the work for which it has never had either enough
money or enough disinterested and expert assistance
to do in the best way the thing it and every
American would like to see done.”

CHAPTER XXXIII

MISSION ARCHITECTURE

The question is often asked: Is there a Mission
architecture? It is not my intention here to
discuss this question in extenso, but merely
to answer it by asking another and then making an
affirmation. What is it that constitutes a style
in architecture? It cannot be that every separate
style must show different and distinct features from
every other style. It is not enough that in each
style there are specific features that, when combined,
form an appropriate and harmonious relationship that
distinguishes it from every other combination.

As a rule, the Missions were built in the form of
a hollow square: the church representing the
fachada, with the priests’ quarters and
the houses for the Indians forming the wings.
These quarters were generally colonnaded or cloistered,
with a series of semicircular arches, and roofed with
red tiles. In the interior was the patio
or court, which often contained a fountain and a garden.
Upon this patio opened all the apartments:
those of the fathers and of the majordomo, and the
guest-rooms, as well as the workshops, schoolrooms
and storehouses.

One of the strongest features of this style, and one
that has had a wide influence upon our modern architecture,
is the stepped and curved sides of the pediment.

This is found at San Luis Rey, San Gabriel, San Antonio
de Padua, Santa Ines, and at other places. At
San Luis Rey, it is the dominant feature of the extension
wall to the right of the fachada of the main
building.

On this San Luis pediment occurs a lantern which architects
regard as misplaced. Yet the fathers’ motive
for its presence is clear: that is, the uplifting
of the Sign whereby the Indians could alone find salvation.

Another means of uplifting the cross was found in
the domes—­practically all of which were
terraced—­on the summits of which the lantern
and cross were placed.

Page 121

The careful observer may note another distinctive
feature which was seldom absent from the Mission domes.
This is the series of steps at each “corner”
of the half-dome. Several eminent architects have
told me that the purpose of these steps is unknown,
but to my simple lay mind it is evident that they
were placed there purposely by the clerical architects
to afford easy access to the surmounting cross; so
that any accident to this sacred symbol could be speedily
remedied. It must be remembered that the fathers
were skilled in reading some phases of the Indian
mind. The knew that an accident to the Cross might
work a complete revolution in the minds of the superstitious
Indians whose conversion they sought. Hence common,
practical sense demanded speedy and easy access to
the cross in case such emergency arose.

It will also be noticed that throughout the whole
chain of Missions the walls, piers and buttresses
are exceedingly solid and massive, reaching even to
six, eight, ten and more feet in thickness. This
was undoubtedly for the purpose of counteracting the
shaking of the earthquakes, and the effectiveness
of this method of building is evidenced by the fact
that these old adobe structures still remain (even
though some are in a shattered condition, owing to
their long want of care) while later and more pretentious
buildings have fallen.

From these details, therefore, it is apparent that
the chief features of the Mission style of architecture
are found to be as follows:

1. Solid and massive walls, piers and buttresses.

2. Arched corridors.

3. Curved pedimented gables.

4. Terraced towers, surmounted by a lantern.

5. Pierced Campanile, either in tower or wall.

6. Broad, unbroken, mural masses.

7. Wide, overhanging eaves.

8. Long, low, sloping roofs covered with red
clay tiles.

9. Patio, or inner court.

In studying carefully the whole chain of Missions
in California I found that the only building that
contains all these elements in harmonious combination
is that of San Luis Rey. Hence it alone is to
be regarded as the typical Mission structure, all
the others failing in one or more essentials.
Santa Barbara is spoiled as a pure piece of Mission
architecture by the introduction of the Greek engaged
columns in the fachada. San Juan Capistrano
undoubtedly was a pure “type” structure,
but in its present dilapidated condition it is almost
impossible to determine its exact appearance.

San Antonio de Padua lacks the terraced towers and
the pierced campanile. San Gabriel and Santa
Ines also have no towers, though both have the pierced
campanile. And so, on analysis, will all the Missions
be found to be defective in one or more points and
therefore not entitled to rank as “type”
structures.

As an offshoot from the Mission style has come the
now world-famed and popular California bungalow style,
which appropriates to itself every architectural style
and no-style known.

Page 122

But California has also utilized to a remarkable degree
in greater or lesser purity the distinctive features
of the Mission style, as I have above enumerated them,
in modern churches, hospitals, school-houses, railway
depots, warehouses, private residences, court-houses,
libraries, etc.

[Illustration: HIGH SCHOOL, RIVERSIDE, CALIF.
In modern Mission architecture.]

[Illustration: WALL DECORATIONS ON OLD MISSION
CHAPEL OF SAN ANTONIO DE PALA.]

[Illustration: ARCHES AT GLENWOOD MISSION INN,
RIVERSIDE, CALIF.]

Of greater importance, however, than the development
of what I regard as a distinct style of architecture,
is the development of the Mission spirit in
architecture. Copying of past styles is never
a proof of originality or power. The same spirit
that led to the creation of the Mission Style,—­the
creative impulse, the originality, the vision, the
free, imaginative power, the virility that desires
expression and demands objective manifestation,—­this
was fostered by the Franciscan architects. This
spirit is in the California atmosphere. A considerable
number of architects have caught it. Without slavish
adherence to any style, without copying anything,
they are creating, expressing, even as did the Franciscan
padres, beautiful thoughts in stone, brick, wood and
reinforced concrete. In my magnum opus
on Mission Architecture, which has long been
in preparation, I hope clearly to present not only
the full details of what the padres accomplished, but
what these later creative artists, impelled by the
same spirit, have given to the world.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE GLENWOOD MISSION INN

It is an incontrovertible fact that no great idea
ever rests in its own accomplishment. There are
offshoots from it, ideas generated in other minds
entirely different from the original, yet dependent
upon it for life. For instance, which of the
Mission fathers had the faintest conception that in
erecting their structures under the adverse conditions
then existing in California, they were practically
originating a new style of architecture; or that in
making their crude and simple chairs, benches and
tables they were starting a revolution in furniture
making; or that in caring for and entertaining the
few travelers who happened to pass over El Camino
Real they were to suggest a name, an architectural
style, a method of management for the most unique,
and in many respects the most attractive hotel in the
world. For such indeed is the Glenwood Mission
Inn, at Riverside, California, at this present time.

Page 123

This inn is an honest and just tribute to the influence
of the Old Mission Fathers of California, as necessary
to a complete understanding of the far-reaching power
of their work as is El Camino Real, the Mission
Play, or the Mission Style of architecture. After
listening to lectures on the work of the Franciscan
padres and visiting the Missions themselves, its owners,
Mr. and Mrs. Frank Miller, humanely interested in
the welfare of the Mission Indians, collectors of the
handicrafts of these artistic aborigines, and students
of what history tells us of them, began, some twenty-five
years ago, to realize that in the Mission idea was
an ideal for a modern hotel. Slowly the suggestion
grew, and as they discussed it with those whose knowledge
enabled them to appreciate it, the clearer was it
formulated, until some ten or a dozen years ago time
seemed ripe for its realization. Arthur B. Benton,
one of the leading architects of Southern California,
formulated plans, and the hotel was erected.
Its architecture conforms remarkably to that of the
Missions. On Seventh Street are the arched corridors
of San Fernando, San Juan Capistrano, San Miguel and
San Antonio de Padua; inside is an extensive patio
and the automobiles stop close to the Campanile reproducing
the curved pediments of San Gabriel. On the Sixth
Street side is the fachada of Santa Barbara
Mission, and over the corner of Sixth and Orange Streets
is the imposing dome of San Carlos Borromeo in the
Carmelo Valley, flanked by buttresses of solid concrete,
copies of those of San Gabriel.

The walls throughout are massive and unbroken by any
other lines than those of doors, windows and eaves,
and the roofs are covered with red tiles. In
the Bell Tower a fine chime of bells is placed the
playing of which at noon and sunset recalls the matins
and vespers of the Mission days.

Within the building, the old Mission atmosphere is
wonderfully preserved. In the Cloister Music
Room the windows are of rare and exquisite stained
glass, showing St. Cecilia, the seats are cathedral
stalls of carved oak; the rafters are replicas of the
wooden beams of San Miguel, and the balcony is copied
from the chancel rail of the same Mission. Mission
sconces, candelabra, paintings, banners, etc.,
add to the effect, while the floor is made in squares
of oak with mahogany parquetry to remind the visitor
of the square tile pavements found in several of the
old Missions.

Daily—­three times—­music is called
forth from the cathedral organ and harp, and one may
hear music of every type, from the solemn, stately
harmonies of the German choral, the crashing thunders
of Bach’s fugues and Passion music, to the light
oratorios, and duets and solos of Pergolesi.

By the side of the Music Room is the Cloistered Walk,
divided into sections, in each of which some distinctive
epoch or feature of Mission history is represented
by mural paintings by modern artists of skill and
power. The floor is paved with tiles from one
of the abandoned Missions.

Beyond is the Refectorio, or dining-room of an ancient
Mission, containing a collection of kitchen and dining
utensils, some of them from Moorish times. It
has a stone ceiling, groined arches, and harvest festival
windows, which also represent varied characters, scenes,
industries and recreations connected with old Mission
life.

Three other special features of the Mission Inn are
its wonderful collection of crosses, of bells, and
the Ford paintings. Any one of these would grace
the halls of a national collection of rare and valuable
antiques. Of the crosses it can truthfully be
said that they form the largest and most varied collection
in the world, and the bells have been the subject
of several articles in leading magazines.

The Ford paintings are a complete representation of
all the Missions and were made by Henry Chapman Ford,
of Santa Barbara, mainly during the years 1880-1881,
though some of them are dated as early as 1875.

The Glenwood Mission Inn proved so popular that in
the summer and fall of 1913 two new wings were added,
surrounding a Spanish Court. This Court has cloisters
on two sides and cloistered galleries above, and is
covered with Spanish tile, as it is used for an open
air dining-room. One of the new wings, a room
100 feet long by 30 feet wide, and three stories high,
with coffered ceiling, is a Spanish Art Gallery.
Here are displayed old Spanish pictures and tapestries,
many of which were collected by Mr. Miller personally
on his European and Mexican trips.

At the same time the dining-room was enlarged by more
than half its former capacity, one side of it looking
out through large French windows on the cloisters
and the court itself. This necessitated the enlargement
of the kitchen which is now thrown open to the observation
of the guests whenever desired.

Taking it all in all, the Glenwood Mission Inn is
not only a unique and delightful hostelry, but a wonderful
manifestation of the power of the Franciscan friars
to impress their spirit and life upon the commercial
age of a later and more material civilization.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE INTERIOR DECORATIONS OF THE MISSIONS

We cannot to-day determine how the Franciscans of
the Southwest decorated the interiors of all their
churches. Some of these buildings have disappeared
entirely, while others have been restored or renovated
beyond all semblance of their original condition.
But enough are left to give us a satisfactory idea
of the labors of the fathers and of their subject
Indians. At the outset, it must be confessed that

Page 125

while the fathers understood well the principles of
architecture and created a natural, spontaneous style,
meeting all obstacles of time and place which presented
themselves, they showed little skill in matters of
interior decoration, possessing neither originality
in design, the taste which would have enabled them
to become good copyists, nor yet the slightest appreciation
of color-harmony. In making this criticism, I
do not overlook the difficulties in the way of the
missionaries, or the insufficiency of materials at
command. The priests were as much hampered in
this work as they were in that of building. But,
in the one case, they met with brilliant success;
in the other they failed. The decorations have,
therefore, a distinctly pathetic quality. They
show a most earnest endeavor to beautify what to those
who wrought them was the very house of God. Here
mystically dwelt the very body, blood, and reality
of the Object of Worship. Hence the desire to
glorify the dwelling-place of their God, and their
own temple. The great distance in this case between
desire and performance is what makes the result pathetic.
Instead of trusting to themselves, or reverting to
first principles, as they did in architecture, the
missionaries endeavored to reproduce from memory the
ornaments with which they had been familiar in their
early days in Spain. They remembered decorations
in Catalonia, Cantabria, Mallorca, Burgos, Valencia,
and sought to imitate them; having neither exactitude
nor artistic qualities to fit them for their task.
No amount of kindliness can soften this decision.
The results are to be regretted; for I am satisfied
that, had the fathers trusted to themselves, or sought
for simple nature-inspirations, they would have given
us decorations as admirable as their architecture.
What I am anxious to emphasize in this criticism is
the principle involved. Instead of originating
or relying upon nature, they copied without intelligence.
The rude brick, adobe, or rubble work, left in the
rough, or plastered and whitewashed, would have been
preferable to their unmeaning patches of color.
In the one, there would have been rugged strength
to admire; in the other there exists only pretense
to condemn.

[Illustration: THE OLD ALTAR AT THE CHAPEL OF
SAN ANTONIO DE PALA. Showing original wall decorations
prized by the Indians.]

[Illustration: ALTAR AND INTERIOR OF CHAPEL OF
SAN ANTONIO DE PALA, AFTER REMOVAL OF WALL DECORATIONS
PRIZED BY INDIANS.]

After this criticism was written I asked for the opinion
of the learned and courteous Father Zephyrin, the
Franciscan historian. In reply the following
letter was received, which so clearly gives another
side to the matter that I am glad to quote it entire:

Page 126

“I do not think your criticism
from an artistic view is too severe; but it would
have been more just to judge the decorations
as you would the efforts of amateurs, and then to
have made sure as to their authors.

“You assume that they were produced
by the padres themselves. This is hardly
demonstrable. They probably gave directions,
and some of them, in their efforts to make things
plain to the crude mind of the Indians, may have
tried their hands at work to which they were
not trained any more than clerical candidates
or university students are at the present time; but
it is too much to assume that those decorations give
evidence even of the taste of the fathers.
In that matter, as in everything else that was
not contrary to faith or morals, they adapted
themselves to the taste of their wards, or very likely,
too, to the humor of such stray ‘artists’
as might happen upon the coast, or whom they
might be able to import. You must bear in
mind that in all California down to 1854 there
were no lay-brothers accompanying the fathers to perform
such work as is done by our lay-brothers now, who can
very well compete with the best of secular artisans.
The church of St. Boniface, San Francisco, and
the church of St. Joseph, Los Angeles, are proof
of this. Hence the fathers were left to
their own wits in giving general directions, and to
the taste of white ‘artists,’ and allowed
even Indians to suit themselves. You will
find this all through ancient Texas, New Mexico,
and Arizona. The Indians loved the gaudy, loud,
grotesque, and as it was the main thing for the fathers
to gain the Indians in any lawful way possible,
the taste of the latter was paramount.

“As your criticism stands, it
cannot but throw a slur upon the poor missionaries,
who after all did not put up these buildings
and have them decorated as they did for the benefit
of future critics, but for the instruction and
pleasure of the natives. Having been an
Indian missionary myself, I acted just so.
I have found that the natives would not appreciate
a work of art, whereas they prized the grotesque.
Well, as long as it drew them to prize the supernatural
more, what difference did it make to the missionary?
You yourself refer to the unwise action of the
Pala priest in not considering the taste and
the affection of the Indians.”

Another critic of my criticism insists that, “while
the Indians, if left to themselves, possess harmony
of color which seems never to fail, they always demand
startling effects from us.” This, I am inclined
to question. The Indians’ color-sense in
their basketry is perfect, as also in their blankets,
and I see no reason for the assumption that they should
demand of us what is manifestly so contrary to their
own natural and normal tastes.

[Illustration: ALTAR AND CEILING DECORATIONS,
MISSION SANTA INES.]

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF MISSION SAN FRANCISCO
DE ASIS, SHOWING MURAL AND CEILING DECORATIONS.]

Page 127

It must, in justice to the padres, be confessed that,
holding the common notions on decoration, it is often
harder to decorate a house than it is to build it;
but why decorate at all? The dull color of the
natural adobe, or plaster, would have at least been
true art in its simple dignity of architecture, whereas
when covered with unmeaning designs in foolish colors
even the architectural dignity is detracted from.

One writer says that the colors used in these interior
decorations were mostly of vegetable origin and were
sized with glue. The yellows were extracted from
poppies, blues from nightshade, though the reds were
gained from stones picked up from the beach. The
glue was manufactured on the spot from the bones,
etc., of the animals slaughtered for food.

As examples of interior decoration, the Missions of
San Miguel Arcangel and Santa Ines are the only ones
that afford opportunity for extended study. At
Santa Clara, the decorations of the ceiling were restored
as nearly like the original as possible, but with
modern colors and workmanship. At Pala Chapel
the priest whitewashed the mural distemper paintings
out of existence. A small patch remains at San
Juan Bautista merely as an example; while a splashed
and almost obliterated fragment is the only survival
at San Carlos Carmelo.

At San Miguel, little has been done to disturb the
interior, so that it is in practically the same condition
as it was left by the padres themselves. Fr.
Zephyrin informs me that these decorations were done
by one Murros, a Spaniard, whose daughter, Mrs. McKee,
at the age of over eighty, is still alive at Monterey.
She told him that the work was done in 1820 or 1821.
He copied the designs out of books, she says, and none
but Indians assisted him in the actual work, though
the padres were fully consulted as it progressed.

At Santa Barbara all that remains of the old decorations
are found in the reredos, the marbleizing of the engaged
columns on each wall and the entrance and side arches.
This marble effect is exceedingly rude, and does not
represent the color of any known marble.

In the old building of San Francisco the rafters of
the ceiling have been allowed to retain their ancient
decorations. These consist of rhomboidal figures
placed conventionally from end to end of the building.

At Santa Clara, when the church was restored in 1861-1862,
and again in 1885, the original decorations on walls
and ceiling were necessarily destroyed or injured.
But where possible they were kept intact; where injured,
retouched; and where destroyed, replaced as near the
original as the artist could accomplish. In some
cases the original work was on canvas, and some on
wood. Where this could be removed and replaced
it was done. The retouching was done by an Italian
artist who came down from San Francisco.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF MISSION SAN MIGUEL
FROM THE CHOIR GALLERY.]

Page 128

On the walls, the wainscot line is set off with the
sinuous body of the serpent, which not only lends
itself well to such a purpose of ornamentation, but
was a symbolic reminder to the Indians of that old
serpent, the devil, the father of lies and evil, who
beguiled our first parents in the Garden of Eden.

In the ruins of the San Fernando church faint traces
of the decorations oL the altar can still be seen
in two simple rounded columns, with cornices above.

At San Juan Capistrano, on the east side of the quadrangle,
in the northeast corner, is a small room; and in one
corner of this is a niche for a statue, the original
decorations therein still remaining. It is weather-stained,
and the rain has washed the adobe in streaks over some
of it; yet it is interesting. It consists of a
rude checkerboard design, or, rather, of a diagonal
lozenge pattern in reds and yellows.

There are also a few remnants of the mural distemper
paintings in the altar zone of the ruined church.

CHAPTER XXXVI

HOW TO REACH THE MISSIONS

SAN DIEGO. From Los Angeles to San Diego, Santa
Fe Railway, 126 miles, one way fare $3.85; round trip
$5.00, good ten days; or $7.00, good 30 days, with
stop-over privileges at Oceanside, which allows a visit
to San Luis Rey and Pala (via Oceanside) and San Juan
Capistrano. Or steamship, $3.00 and $2.25; round
trip, first class, $5.25. The Mission is six
miles from San Diego, and a carriage must be taken
all the way, or the electric car to the bluff, fare
five cents; thence by Bluff Road, on burro, two miles,
fare fifty cents. The better way is to drive by
Old Town and return by the Bluff Road.

SAN LUIS REY. From Los Angeles to Oceanside,
Santa Fe Railway, 85 miles, fare $2.55; round trip,
ten days, $4.60. Take carriage from livery, or
walk to Mission, 4 miles. The trip to Pala may
be taken at the same time, though sleeping accommodations
are uncertain at Pala. Meals may be had at one
or two of the Indian houses, as a rule.

SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO. From Los Angeles to Capistrano,
Santa Fe Railway, 58 miles, fare $1.70. The Mission
is close to the station. Hotel accommodations
are poor.

SAN FERNANDO. From Los Angeles to San Fernando,
Southern Pacific Railway, 21 miles, fare 65 cents.
Thence by carriage or on foot or horseback to the
Mission, 1 1/2 miles. Livery and hotel at San
Fernando.

SANTA INES. This is not on the line of any railway.
It can be reached from Santa Barbara, 25 miles, by
carriage, or from Los Olivos, four miles, by stage.
Los Olivos is on the line of the Pacific Coast Railway.
To reach it take Southern Pacific Railway to San Luis
Obispo, change cars. It is then 66 miles to Los
Olivos, fare $3.00. The better way is to go by
Southern Pacific to Lompoc, take carriage and visit
the site of Old La Purisima, then Purisima, then drive
to Santa Ines and return. With a good team this
can be done in a day. Distance 25 miles.

LA PURISIMA CONCEPCION. Go to Lompoc on the coast
line of the Southern Pacific either from Los Angeles
(181 miles, $5.60) or San Francisco (294 miles, $9.35).
Carriage from livery to the ruins of Old Purisima,
thence to the later one, five miles.

SAN LUIS OBISPO. Southern Pacific Railway from
either Los Angeles (222 miles, $6.70) or San Francisco
(253 miles, $7.30), or steamship to Port Hartford
and the Pacific Coast Railway, 211 miles, $6.50.
The Mission is in the town.

SAN MIGUEL. The Mission is but a few rods from
the Southern Pacific Station, reached either from
Los Angeles (273 miles, $8.05) or San Francisco (208
miles, $5.95). By far the better way, however,
is to go to Paso Robles, where one can bathe in the
Hot Springs so noted even in Indian days, while enjoying
the hospitalities of one of the best hotels on the
Pacific Coast. Carriages may be secured from one
of the livery stables. From here visit Santa
Isabel Ranch and Hot Springs (which used to belong
to San Miguel), then drive 16 miles to San Miguel.
On account of the completeness of its interior decorations,
this is, in many respects, especially to the student,
the most interesting Mission of the whole chain.

SAN ANTONIO DE PADUA. It is a twenty-mile stage
ride from King’s City, on the line of the Southern
Pacific (216 miles from Los Angeles, $9.35) to Jolon
(fare $2.00), the quaintest little village now remaining
in California, which is practically the gateway to
Mission San Antonio de Padua. At Jolon one secures
a team, and, after a six-mile drive through a beautiful
park, dotted on every hand with majestic live-oaks,—­ancient
monarchs that have accumulated moss and majesty with
their years,—­the ruins of the old Mission
come into view. From San Francisco to King’s
City is 164 miles, fare $4.65.

LA SOLEDAD. The Mission is four miles from the
town of Soledad on the Southern Pacific Railway.
From Los Angeles, 337 miles, fare $9.95. From
San Francisco, 144 miles, fare $4.00. Livery from
Soledad to the Mission.

Page 130

SAN JUAN BAUTISTA is six miles from Sargent’s
Station on the Southern Pacific. Two stages run
daily, fare $1.00 for the round trip. Visitors
may be accommodated at the Plaza Hotel, conducted by
William Haydon. From Los Angeles to Sargent’s,
394 miles, fare $11.65. From San Francisco, 87
miles, fare $2.35.

SAN CARLOS BORROMEO, MONTEREY. The old presidio
church is in the town of Monterey, and reached by
car-line from Hotel del Monte or the town. San
Carlos Carmelo is about six miles from Monterey, and
must be reached by carriage or automobile. By
far the best way is to stop at either Hotel del Monte
or Hotel Carmelo, Pacific Grove, and then on taking
the seventeen-mile drive, make the side trip to San
Carlos. To Monterey from San Francisco, on the
Southern Pacific Railway, is 126 miles, fare $3.00.
Friday to Tuesday excursion, round trip, $4.50.
From Los Angeles to Monterey, Southern Pacific Railway,
398 miles, fare $11.45.

SANTA CRUZ. It is well to go from San Francisco
on the narrow gauge, 80 miles, Southern Pacific, and
return on the broad gauge, 121 miles. Fare on
either line $2.80. On the narrow gauge are the
Big Trees, at which an interesting stop-over can be
enjoyed.

SANTA CLARA. While there is a city of Santa Clara
it is better to go to San Jose (the first town established
in California), and stay at Hotel Vendome, and then
drive or go by electric car, down the old Alameda to
Santa Clara Mission, 3-1/2 miles.

MISSION SAN JOSE. So called to distinguish it
from the city of San Jose. By Southern Pacific
Railway from San Francisco to Irvington, 34 miles,
fare 85 cents. Or from the city of San Jose, 14
miles by Southern Pacific, or a pleasant carriage
drive. From Irvington to the Mission, three miles,
stage twice daily, fare 25 cents.

SAN FRANCISCO DE ASIS is on Sixteenth and Dolores
Streets, three miles from Palace Hotel. Take
Valencia or Howard electric cars.

SAN RAFAEL. There is nothing left at San Rafael
of the old Mission. The town is reached by North
Pacific Coast Railway, 18 miles, or California Northwestern,
15 miles, fare 35 cents.

SAN FRANCISCO SOLANO is in the town of Sonoma.
Reached by North Pacific Coast Railway, 43 miles,
fare $1.00.